Parameters
by criedthefox
Summary: Nicholas escapes a hostage situation with a book and the words of a criminal ringing in his ears. Callista finds a strange man sitting in her bedroom; and Beatrice, rushing to her friends, encounters a Pokémon thought to be only a legend. Together, the three friends attempt to find the motive behind a mysterious group who seek to replicate the events of seven years earlier.
1. Concerning Hives, Cones, and Hostages

_Summary, long version_: Seven years after a boy called N unleashed a legendary Pokémon over Unova, life has continued on. That is, until Nacrene City Museum is taken over by a group of mysterious, threatening fanatics. Nicholas Evergreen escapes the hostage situation with a book and some disturbing words ringing in his ears, courtesy of a man with a link to both Nicholas' own past and to the bizarre Team Plasma. In Castelia City, Callista Fairweather returns home to find a man sitting in her bedroom. And near the mysterious Village Bridge, Beatrice Candlestar is approached by a Pokémon long thought to be a legend. These peculiar incidents draw the three friends together and send them across Unova in a race against a plot that threatens to replicate the goals of an organization thought to be long dispersed.

* * *

**Parameters, **a pokémon fanfiction by _criedthefox_

* * *

"_So sure are you of the endless drumming of your isolation_

_that you are painfully slow to adjust_

_if only because, yours is not that genre of story_

_still and again, life cannot muster the stuff of movies_

_no bullets shattering glass_

_instead, fear sits patiently_

_fear almost smiles when you see him_

_though you have kept him waiting for thirty three years..._"

-Parameters, Ani diFranco

* * *

**Nacrene City - 1:15pm**

* * *

Pulling a heavy tome from the weathered bookshelf, Nicholas Evergreen stifled a sneeze. The title read, "_Assorted Essays on Johto's Legendary Dogs_".

"No wonder it's so dusty," Nicholas murmured to himself, and ran a feather duster across the cover. It was incredible, the disparity between back here and up at the front of the Nacrene City Library. Nicholas worked as an assistant at the library, helping with cleaning, sorting, stacking, and other light work while also working on his schooling. Usually, at his brightly-lit desk up front, he was surrounded by the steady buzz of kids doing school projects, or quiet middle-age patrons. Most ignored the quiet, brown-haired youth perpetually hunched over his desk, but those who asked after the mountain of papers and books surrounding him were often surprised. Nicholas had been lucky to land this summer internship (Lenora, head of the connected museum-library, and an ex-Gym Leader, was pretty enthusiastic about promoting secondary education) during his break from Castelia University - for his research paper, Nicholas had chosen a topic on the depiction of legendary Pokémon in art throughout history. Initially interested only in Unova art history, the more Nicholas read the more his interests spread - to Sinnoh, to Hoenn, to Johto, even to Kanto's long forgotten bird trio. Soon he was up to his eyebrows in books and articles, the majority back at his place but a healthy dose still at his work. If he wasn't still in the beginning stages of his thesis, he'd be more afraid of the general direction his research had taken (yesterday he jotted down 10 pages worth of citations about the Orange Islands; the day before, he was sifting through folk tales about Regirock)

But, he still had a job to do, and today he had set aside time specifically to clean the areas of the library that didn't regularly see...well...use.

Not that Nicholas minded the distraction. His research had taken a dangerously boring and confusing turn (he was just starting to wade through articles on the Ruins of Alph in Johto, the majority of the non-contemporary sources notoriously known for being ridiculously over-mythologized, fanatically religious, or both. Nicholas' favourite so far? The century-old journal pages of a sage from Sprout Tower, who described the strange lettering in the Ruins as, "alluring yet grossly hyper-sexual". Yeah, right. Nicholas didn't have to be a psychologist to infer what that sage wasn't getting enough of...). The more time he spent away from those articles, the better.

Standing on tiptoes on his stepladder, Nicholas stretched to dust the top of the bookshelf, stiffly flexing his right fist rhythmically - days of being at his desk were leaving him feeling stiff and pained. He wondered if he shouldn't try to do some exercise after work today.

Below him, in a cart of books waiting to be re-sorted, something rustled, but Nicholas carried on, unconcerned. It was just Tarsi, his Swadloon, a present from his father when he was ten. Nicholas' parents, originally hailing from Sinnoh but raising their children in Accumula, had hoped a Pokémon would help Nicholas, who as a child had always been skittish and nervous around Pokémon.

Surprisingly, it had worked. Nicholas had gotten Tarsi as a Sewaddle, who didn't look as if it could stand on its own let alone attack him. Fascinated, Nicholas had proceeded to spend every waking moment with Tarsi, feeding him, letting him crawl around in the back garden and finally, when prompted, battling against his sister's Tympole, Duchess.

Tarsi had held his own, to Nicholas' delight, and when he was sixteen, after countless battles with schoolmates in the yard during recess, Tarsi had evolved into Swadloon and had been that way ever since. Of course, the fact that Tarsi hadn't reached his final evolution yet worried Nicholas a little, but everyone assured him his Pokémon would evolve when "it was ready".

Tarsi loved wrapping himself in whatever was available; he preferred leaves, of course, but Nicholas lived in a loft in the middle of Nacrene City, so his Swadloon was content with a spare bed-sheet Nicholas had ripped into strips. Tarsi also enjoyed flipping big books spine-side up and burrowing under them for good measure, like he was doing right now with "_The Dialga Principle, and Other Shocking Distortion Theories_". Tarsi was Nicholas' constant and thoroughly welcomed library companion, content to doze the day away with no noise or complaint. Most of Nicholas' co-workers had been surprised to learn he even had a Pokémon, for all the attention Tarsi drew to himself!

Arms aching from holding themselves up for so long, Nicholas hopped down off his stool, stopping to fix his hair safely behind the shelves. If there was one thing Nicholas appreciated about working in a library, it was the lax dress-code - he really was a button-down shirt and cardigan sort of guy, though he took care to style his hair every day, lest it became a thick tangle on his head.

Stepping around the shelf, Nicholas noticed a man at the other end of the aisle, thumbing through a book carelessly. For some reason Nicholas felt uneasy, though he instantly felt silly for it. Sure, it was a _little_ unusual to see him there - this was a section most frequently visited by scholars or professors, not young student types with expensive looking jeans - but, after all, it was a _library_. He was _allowed_ to be here. No, that wasn't what made Nicholas' stomach do a weird jerk. The guy looked familiar in a strange way - not in an "old classmate" or "next door neighbour" kind of way...more like "I think we used to go to the same coffee shop", but much more ominous. The man had an almost absurdly bright shock of red hair cut short to his head, and ice blue eyes that looked perpetually bored and half-lidded.

Perhaps sensing eyes on him, the man lifted his eyes from his book to meet Nicholas' gaze. Feeling rude, Nicholas smiled, and the man lifted his fingers to give a rather sardonic wave.

Moving closer, Nicholas offered, "Are you looking for something in particular?"

The man looked surprised. "You work here?" he asked, a little brusquely; then with an odd look on his face (a mix of the same vague recognition Nicholas felt, and also some confusion), he asked, "What's your name?"

"Nicholas," he replied, annoyed at the stranger's disbelief.

"Nicholas." the man repeated, then gave him that same, sardonic wave. "I'm Sebastian."

"Nice to meet you." Now that Sebastian was looking straight at him, bright blue eyes still looking sleepy and disinterested, Nicholas' bizarre feeling of wariness had only increased.

"You know what? Maybe you _can_ help me find something." Sebastian said suddenly. "I'm looking for a book. _Reshiram on the Rise_. It's got a bunch of essays in it. Heard of it?"

Nicholas let out a surprised laugh. "Oh, that one's checked out for another week still."

Sebastian looked confused. "You must be a good employee, to know all that." he half-teased.

"The only reason I know that is because _I'm_ the one who checked it out." Nicholas pointed out with a bit of irritation. "In fact, half the books checked out in this section are probably checked out under my name."

Sebastian was grinning like this was all a very funny joke. "So, you're an expert, then." he concluded softly, replacing the book he'd been holding on the shelves.

"I'm writing a paper." Nicholas corrected firmly. "There's a difference."

Sebastian smiled. "Do you have it with you?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm not sure it's the book I need, it would help to take a look at it."

"...Sure." Nicholas agreed with a bit of reluctance. "It's in my desk up front. Follow me."

As they passed the cart of book, Nicholas softly clicked his tongue for Tarsi, and the Swadloon jumped into his arms. Sebastian looked amused but said nothing.

Up front, the windows let in freeing, mood-lifting light, and Nicholas could almost believe his wariness of Sebastian was a product of the sombre shelves and the dim, stuffy lighting in the back. Up in the light of day, Sebastian looked perfectly normal, scruffily handsome in a way; his eyes were piercing now that the light was on them.

Nicholas led him to his desk near the front, papers in a somewhat orderly pile; Hawes must have attempted to clean up again, the dear. Lenora's husband was renowned for being easy-going, exceedingly kind and a bit of a mother hen...if you worked at the library you could expect your desk to be tidied, your dishes to be cleaned and, sometimes, on weekends, chocolate to be left in your coffee mug to start off your Monday.

At his desk, Nicholas put Tarsi down and rifled through his drawers. Tarsi snuggled under a pile of papers and gave the stranger a baleful, protective stare.

"Here it is!" Nicholas pulled the book - slim, unassuming, with a dark indigo colour - from underneath an old brochure for Nimbasa Amusement Park and a bunch of old coupons. He handed it to Sebastian, who began flipping through it. Nicholas waited, patiently, and eventually the red-head looked up.

"What do you think of this book?" he asked, waving it carelessly in the air.

Nicholas frowned. Truth be told, he was only about halfway through "_Reshiram on the Rise_" - though it wasn't very long, the reading material was very heavy, and he found the style of writing did not grab his attention very well. That aside, however, it was forming the bulk of the latter half of his Unovian research.

Seven years ago, when Nicholas was thirteen, a group called Team Plasma had sought to release all Pokémon from their trainers. Their leader, a boy called N, had awakened Reshiram - one of the legendary Pokémon of the Unova region - in an attempt to harness its powers. His efforts were thwarted, thankfully, but the close call had many scholars talking. Legendary Pokémon were supposed to be just that..._legends_, nearly untouchable by humans, almost something separate from the "real" world. If a boy could awaken them, what was stopping other, more powerful forces from using these Pokémon for all sorts of misdeeds? The essays compiled in "_Reshiram on the Rise_" addressed these concerns - what, exactly, were the criteria for calling on these legendary Pokémon, and what was being done to ensure this could not happen again? Conversely, _could_ this be stopped from happening again? Team Plasma had reappeared a few years later, just as determined, though they had faded into the woodwork. Overall, it was a very interesting book, and also the leading source on contemporary legendary interactions.

"It's...interesting." he settled with saying, and at Sebastian's derisive snort he coloured. "Well - it raises more questions than it does answers, doesn't it? I mean, if it could happen once, it could happen again. Reshiram, I mean, and Zekrom, coming back. And what if no one is there to put everything at peace?"

"But," the man pressed with an odd, almost fervent earnestness, "If you prescribe to the belief that Zekrom and Reshiram, as one, created Unova, and so held dominion over it...then if someone was to be chosen by them again...then wouldn't you say they had the authority to do as they wished?"

Nicholas frowned. "One person and one Pokémon couldn't possibly decide what was best for _every_ Pokémon and human. The world doesn't work like that."

"But what if he was _chosen_?" Sebastian pressed, and the uneasiness flared up again in Nicholas' gut.

"Okay," he conceded, a little nervously. "Say he _was_ chosen by one of them. But chosen for _what_?"

As Sebastian opened his mouth, Nicholas continued, "There is no evidence of any specific goal, is there? In the legend, the princes were "chosen" and then they used that privilege to fight in the name of their beliefs. That boy, N...and the one who opposed him...they say they were chosen to be "heroes". But then, what does that mean? I think you should look more at what one _does_ when one is _chosen_. What you do with that determines who you really are."

When Sebastian remained silent, Nicholas pressed, "Pokémon are benevolent, at the best of times. How could a Pokémon like Reshiram or Zekrom, who disappeared for years...how could they possibly know what's "good" for anyone? It listens to the Trainer, and therein lies the responsibility. Just because a Pokémon listens to you and "chooses" you doesn't entitle you to anything."

"Wrong." Sebastian said flatly, and sighed. "Wrong, wrong. I had high hopes for you, Nicky."

Nicholas spluttered, attempting a retort (most likely starting with, "Don't call me that!"), but Sebastian continued, "If you are chosen, it is a sign. Don't you think? A sign that you were meant to be so much more than the rest of the people on this godforsaken piece of land."

"That's not true!" Nicholas exclaimed, so bewildered by this strange man's idea that he didn't even notice, below them, a commotion from the museum. "It's attitudes like this that caused so much trouble, both here _and_ abroad. With Team Plasma, with those crazy people in Sinnoh...I'm just thankful that more people don't share that attitude - "

"Oh, that will change." Sebastian promised, darkly, a little too cryptically for Nicholas to take seriously, but he was distracted when, out in the museum, someone screamed.

Tarsi rustled anxiously on the desk, giving a cry of agitation. The few patrons up front took hesitant steps toward the door.

Then, suddenly, all hell broke loose. A Braviary swept into the library, beating the air with its wings, and creating a violent airflow that sent books tumbling from their shelves - one lightweight bookshelf actually toppled, narrowly missing a terrified little girl and her older sister. The Braviary was followed by a Heatmor, fire flicking from its nostrils, so hot Nicholas could feel it all the way at his desk. Finding their way blocked by two aggressive Pokémon, the people in the library backed up, nervous. A few released their own Pokémon, but none of them looked a match for the intruders.

The Pokémon were quickly followed by about half a dozen people - Nicholas said _people_ because he couldn't really make out any distinguishing features, or even genders. Each of them was wearing a black mask that covered the lower halves of their faces, and a hood that covered their heads. Dressed all in black, they blocked off the entrance, standing with military exactness, hands behind their backs, spines straight, feet planted firmly apart. One of them stepped forward, calming the Braviary and Heatmor with a wave of his hand.

"No one panic." he ordered, voice curiously flat and almost tinny. "Do as we say, and everyone walks away unharmed. Now. Who's in charge?"

And, terrifyingly, Nicholas realized _he_ was. With Lenora out of the city for the day, Hawes on lunch (the researcher had stepped out nearly fifteen minutes ago to the cafe down the street, promising to return with Nicholas' favourite pastry), and the only other workers being the girls at the museum's reception desk, Nicholas was the only one in the building with the keys and, technically, the only one with any kind of authority.

Edging himself along the bookshelf, eyes glued to the man up front, Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice bellowed beside him, "_Oi_! _He's_ in charge!"

Gaping, Nicholas turned to realize that Sebastian had pulled an identical mask over his mouth, and was now pointing straight at Nicholas.

Sebastian gave him a wink.

"Sorry, Nicky." he said, loudly, and released a large, roaring Druddigon from a Pokéball. "But I'm going to need your keys!"

* * *

**Castelia City - 1:30pm**

* * *

Callista Fairweather was late. Nervously checking her watch, she hopped from foot to foot, craning her neck to check how long the line in front of her was (answer? Very long).

Reaching up to habitually pat her glossy, black hair, slung up into a high, neat bun, Callista pressed a finger against her chin. Lines for Castelia Cones were never described as "short", per se, but this was the shortest she'd ever seen it, and she _loved_ Castelia Cones.

Beside her, her Munna floated, tugging inquisitively at her owner's white blouse.

"Mun?" she cooed, and Callista placed a hand on her Pokémon's head, in comfort.

"Five minutes, I promise." she mumbled absently, eyes already locking on to the prices printed neatly on the board beside the cashier. "I've been dreaming about this all night."

"Mu." said her Munna, Daisy, which probably meant, _I know_.

Callista was never going to get used to that dream eating bit.

Sighing, she shifted her weight to one leg in order to let the other rest. Though she had a desk job in the one of the towering office buildings that made up the core of Castelia City's downtown, she was nearly always on her feet - running papers back and forth, photocopying, answering phones and getting coffee - and her black heels, though fashionable, did not hold up well the whole day.

Dressed in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, Callista was aware she looked just like every other office worker in Castelia's hub - the truth was, though, she had never felt like them. Born in the east, with a round, cheerful face, large, dark eyes, and the olive skin common to people born in those parts, she had moved to Castelia and taken up this desk job as a way to pay the bills. In truth, she attended art school, and sold her paintings and sketches on the side at a place called "Castelia Creations" - it was run by a cute guy named Jack, who put up with her and her numerous (sometimes ridiculous) commissions either because he had a soft spot for her or because she knew the best place to get macarons in the city.

Callista was betting on the latter.

Her lunch break was over in ten minutes, and Callista had spent the majority of it standing in the line for Castelia Cones, wolfing down her sandwich standing up. Daisy didn't really get it, obviously, but obediently followed her owner on whatever wild outing she could dream up.

Callista had caught Daisy when she was twelve, when her older brother (who had tried to take the Gym Challenge but ended up stopping halfway through) and his Tranquill, Tammy, had taken her to the Dreamyard when they were visiting relatives in Striaton, and caught her a Munna. At first, twelve year old Callista had been disappointed - there had been plenty of time for her to dream about her first Pokémon, and her dreams usually took the form of "cuter" types - a Cleffa, maybe, or a Budew, or maybe (just maybe, if she was extra good and her mother was willing to pay the fee to have a Pokémon sent in from a far away region) a little Pichu who would fit in her bag and follow her around. Instead, Tammy had swooped into the bushes and chased out something nervous, round, and pink.

Psychic types were not something Callista had heard much about, or really cared for, but when Daisy had nudged her hand, hesitantly, that first time, Callista had fallen in love. From then on, they'd been inseparable, and luckily the office Callista worked in allowed employees to bring one (modestly sized!) Pokémon with them to work. Sometimes, in the break room, if there were a few minutes to spare, Callista's coworkers would even battle. Callista had joined in a couple times, and was proud when Daisy competently held her own (she had a mean Zen Headbutt!)

Though Daisy fretted more than Callista thought a Pokémon should (or actually _could_, for that matter...what did Daisy care if Callista clocked out a little late this evening?), Callista did appreciate her frequent, if not well-meaning reminders.

And really, she _was_ going to go back to work (really!), but she just happened to look up at the T.V. above the cashier's head.

"Hostage Situation at Nacrene Library" was the headline, accompanied by shaky video footage (probably sent it) of the front doors surrounded by police officers.

She dropped her Castelia Cone.

"Oh my God!" she said. The cashier gave her a frustrated look and she pointed at the screen. "My friend works there!"

The cashier turned but Callista was already sprinting away, Daisy at her heels.

She didn't know _what_ she was doing (there was no way she could _run_ to Nacrene City, and she was headed in the opposite direction of both work and home) but panic fueled her feet, and she didn't stop running until she turned down a side alley and saw the slow blinking of "Castelia Creations" on the outside of the rather grungy shop.

The owner, Jack, was sitting behind the counter reading a book; a tall, rather well-muscled man with blond hair and glasses, he smiled warmly at her once he recognized her; but a closer look at her face had him rising to his feet.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

"D'you have a TV?" she asked, breathless; her ankles were throbbing in pain, and Daisy circled her in concern. "I - Nacrene City..."

Jack came round the desk, his own Munna, Cheryl, by his side. Their two Pokémon nuzzled each other, worriedly, as Jack switched on the little television set on the counter.

"I think Nicholas was working today." Callista whispered miserably as Daisy nudged her arm, making a distressed keening sound. "God, of _course_ he was working today."

On TV, the reporter was yammering on, something about "no known ties to any criminal organizations" and "details have yet to be released" but Callista was hardly listening. Jack had his arms folded over his chest, leaning against the desk.

"I think she's saying everyone's out," he said, to reassure her, but all of a sudden there was a man being interviewed, an older fellow, eyes worried beneath a thick set of eyebrows.

"There was a kid...they took his keys, I guess he was an employee. I don't see him. Most of us in the museum rushed the exit, I mean...I didn't see him in the crowd, when I got out, but there were a few people still trapped in the library."

Without hesitation Callista yanked her Xtransceiver from her bag and dialed Nicholas' number. At the same time, she dialed another number, the only other person she could think of at a time like this.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked, brow furrowed.

"Calling an old friend." she replied.

Daisy purred.

* * *

**Route 12, 6km from Village Bridge - 1:40pm**

* * *

When Beatrice Candlestar woke up in the morning, the Combee were upset, and it hadn't gotten better.

Not that Beatrice was too thrilled with them in the first place. When she had taken the summer job at Thornside Honey Farm she was under the impression she'd be mainly working in the "store" (a cute little cottage that doubled as a home on Route 12) and helping the owner, Mr. Thornside, a delightful but absent-minded old man who had started this farm with his late wife (mostly chores around the house, as Mr. Thornside moved slower these days). However, a month into her work, Mr. Thornside had taken off for Castelia to visit his son for two weeks, leaving her not only in charge of the store, but also in charge of the Combee hives that provided the little farm with its livelihood.

To be honest, bug Pokemon were her least favourite, so it was with a bit of dread that she had woken up and made her way to the farm, an half-hour's bike from Village Bridge, where she rented a room from a very nice elderly couple. When she pulled up outside the little, modest cottage with its old-fashioned, hand-painted sign ('_Mr. Thornside's Honey Farm - Our Honey Will Stick_!'...what did that even mean?), Beatrice took a moment to lean back on her bicycle seat and pull her thick, curly brown hair off her sweaty face and neck and up into a hair tie. Used to colder temperatures, the dry heat of Village Bridge made a near-perpetual flush rise on the tops of her cheeks, and her eyes were always narrowed, squinting in the sunlight.

Called anything from impatient to hotheaded to ill-tempered, Beatrice had never had a "magic touch" with Pokemon - born and raised in Icirrus City, encounters with Pokemon had occurred frequently throughout her childhood, yet she had never really felt the urge to have one herself. It was only when she had ventured farther from her home - to Opelucid City and further to the very ranges of the foreboding League Gates - on her fifteenth birthday with her mother had she caught her very first Pokemon.

There was a squawk from above, and Beatrice looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun with her palm. Wheeling into view, having followed her leisurely from Village Bridge, her Mandibuzz, Mandy, came swooping down from the skies.

When Beatrice had caught her as a Vullaby she had never thought she would get so attached - as a chick Mandy was baleful and angry and could bite like a motherfucker (and she wore a _skull_!), but she had proven a loyal companion, and pretty intimidating to boot - especially when she (finally) evolved!

With another cry, Mandy landed on Beatrice's handlebars (the weight of her nearly sending the bike topping over!) and delivered an affectionate, yet painful, peck to the top of her left hand. One of the unfortunate casualties of raising bird Pokémon - especially when you had no badges! - were the _scars_. Most prominently, the backs of her hands were perpetually skinned and scabbing from Mandy's "love pecks", and she had a particularly nasty scar over her left eyebrow from Mandy's days as an angry Vullaby.

If she had been _smart_, Beatrice thought to herself, as she unlocked the door to the cottage, left her bag in the kitchen and headed to the back room where the Pokéfood was kept (Mandy insisted on perching on her shoulder, the fat thing, craning her neck only to swipe a mouthful of food), she would've taken another, _higher paying_ summer job in one of the big cities - most likely in Castelia, where she lived for school with her friend Callista. Then, Castelia was only a hop, skip, and a bike away from Nacrene, where her other schoolmate Nicholas currently interned. But no, _she_ had to take a job she thought would be interesting, that she thought she could talk about when she went back to school.

"Oh, how was your summer, Beatrice? - Oh, just lovely, I sold _honey_...stupid, Beatrice." she muttered to herself, picking up the heavy bucket of Pokéfood and shuffling to the back door. To be honest, it creeped her out a little - Route 12 had rolling hills that obscured any nearby towns or settlements from her view, and made her feel ten times more isolated out in the open, by herself. Luckily, they were right in the middle of Route 12, which meant that there was enough traffic flow to keep them in business, but it could get lonely and wild out here, especially at night and in the early morning.

Stepping out into the backyard, Beatrice slowed her steps as she reached the large Combee hives that took up residence at the back by the fence, obscured from any would-be honey thieves by chain link and several large, thick leaves. The hives were tall enough for her to just about stand comfortably in. Combee were usually gentle and mild-mannered, affectionate even if you gave them treats, but they were never loud like this. The buzzing felt agitated, enough to give Beatrice the heebie-jeebies. On her shoulder, Mandy spread her wings, knocking her in the ear, and gave an equally agitated squawk. Beatrice reached up to ruffle the soft down of Mandy's belly.

"Easy." she murmured, and took a few steps towards the hives - as per instructions (Flying types were not welcomed warmly in Bug type nests), Mandy stayed outside, though with some reservations, perching on the top of one of the hives.

Inside, the Combee were moving, in a mass, paying no attention to Beatrice when she ducked her head inside to take a look. Near the back of the hive she could see the Vespiquen, perched there silently, her body vibrating with the same agitation felt in her worker Combee. Nervous herself for some unexplainable reason, Beatrice hurried to put out the food, which the Pokémon ignored, and then hesitantly approached the Vespiquen. The Pokémon looked back at her with her large, red eyes.

"Good morning," Beatrice said, hesitantly, filling a bowl with the special mix Mr. Thornside bought especially for the Vespiquens in his care (packed with nutrition, he said it made them happy). "I brought breakfast."

The Vespiquen studied her, then reached out and took the food. Relieved, Beatrice walked quickly backwards (never turn your back on a Vespiquen, she knew the drill!) and gave a quick, awkward goodbye to the Pokémon (she felt weird doing it, but Mr. Thornside insisted it made them make sweeter honey) - she narrowly missed running into a couple of Combees, and she was in and out of the two other hives in a matter of minutes, unwilling to remain in close proximity for long. The agitation was rubbing off on her, as much as she was reluctant to admit it.

As soon as she was done, Mandy was back to her, narrowed eyes unusually worried. Beatrice scratched her head.

"It's probably an off day." she explained, and shrieked when Mandy used her beak to scrape a bit of skin off her ear.

"You're a freak!" she accused, good-naturedly, as girl and Pokémon headed back into Mr. Thornside's cottage.

The rest of her day would have progressed like normal - lunch, opening the shop, spending most of the day reading or attempting to knit - but as she closed the door of the kitchen she heard her Xtransceiver ringing in her bag, which she had left carelessly on top of the table. Mandy helpfully flew towards it, but misjudged the distance and skidded over the slippery table's surface, effectively knocking the bag onto the floor.

"You're a menace, you know!" Beatrice told her, stooping to pick up her bag, and yowled when Mandy took another peck at her.

Swearing, Beatrice fiddled with her Xtransceiver, pressing her finger against her forehead and wondering if Mandy had drawn blood (again!) - as her friend Callista's face came into focus on the screen, Beatrice opened her mouth to give an excited greeting, but was stopped by the look on her friend's face: absolute panic.

Beside Callista's face, the second screen was still blank...Beatrice took a guess that she was also calling Nicholas - the three of them were extremely close.

"What's happened?" she demanded, all sorts of scenarios flashing through her mind, and Callista made a nervous face. That was Callista - she was always reluctant to say _anything_ bad. Beatrice had to pull criticism from her like she was pulling teeth.

"Have you seen the news?" Callista finally asked, and Beatrice moved immediately to the small sitting room, where Mr. Thornside kept a very small television, a very green chair, and a very large amount of bookshelves.

There was a window that looked out over the yard area and the Combee hives, and as Beatrice mashed the power button with her thumb she looked out, repeating, "What's happened? Did your office burn down? Did our _apartment_ burn down? Did _Daisy_ - oh!" she'd just caught sight of the news, and commotion outside Nacrene Museum. Realization hit her and the two girls said nothing more as they stared anxiously at the little blank screen on both of their Xtransceivers.

"He totally got out, right?' Callista asked worriedly. "He probably can't hear it ring over the noise outside..."

"Yeah." Beatrice replied, after a beat, "Yeah. Totally. His desk is up front, right? He probably hightailed it out of there the second they - "

Abruptly the Xtransceiver was picked up, and there was only one or two seconds of video before it was hung up again. On the screen appeared a man with a mask over half of his face, eyebrows drawn, before it abruptly went black.

Beatrice gaped - Callista bit down on her thumb.

"Well, shit." Beatrice announced. "I'll meet you there?"

Callista was nodding, the background already blurring as she moved. "I'll meet you there."

* * *

As soon as Nicholas handed over his ring of keys to Sebastian, the man seemed to lose all interest in him.

"Go stand with your back to that bookshelf." the red-head waved a careless hand at the shelf closest to them, the one his Druddigon had taken up residence on, perched on top with its large front claws leaving indents in the wood.

Swallowing nervously, Nicholas complied, pressing back so the spines of the books dug into his own spine; the movement offered little comfort. He could hear the Druddigon breathing above him; at times, its breath even ruffled his hair. Tarsi, on his desk, made a movement as if to join him, but Nicholas shook his head quickly - he didn't want it to look as if he was resisting - and tried to make some noise of reassurance towards his Swadloon, who looked quite upset about everything.

Paying the little Pokémon no mind, Sebastian was now carelessly and methodically going through Nicholas' desk, pulling out drawers and letting them crash to the floor, throwing books in a pile in front of his desk. Nicholas watched him, alternating between that and watching the rest of the - gang? Cult? Heist? What was this, exactly? - as they, too, went through the bookshelves, leaving piles of books in their wake, pushing past the frightened hostages if they got in their way.

Sebastian straightened up, ran a hand through his hair. He looked frustrated. He turned his eyes on Nicholas - Druddigon let out a large snuff of air, which blew Nicholas' hair into his eyes.

"Why don't you show me where your boss keeps her research, Nicky?" he asked in that same quiet, dangerous tone. Hesitantly, Nicholas took a step away from the bookshelf.

"I don't have the keys to her office." he said, evenly. Sebastian looked at him the way one would look at a child having a temper tantrum.

"Are you sure?" he asked coolly. Again, that dangerous snuff of air from above him.

"Do _you_ have keys to _your_ boss' office?" Nicholas retorted without thinking; luckily, Sebastian only laughed.

"No, I suppose I don't." he conceded. "Then, show me where it is. Most of the time, I can get away without using any keys."

Druddigon roared, almost like a bark of laughter, and Nicholas, thinking of the books, panicked.

"I - you don't need keys." he admitted. "There's a book on one of the shelves...if you pull it, it opens her office."

Sebastian wrinkled his nose.

"Too time-consuming." he declared. "Druddigon can make her own entrance, hm, sweetie?"

Another roar, proud this time, and the Pokémon flapped her wings. Nicholas winced.

"Please don't." he begged, as Sebastian made to move off to the centre of the library. "There's research here that'll take _months_ to replicate. Some of these books can _never_ be replaced - "

"So?" Sebastian cut him off, unsympathetically. "You'd better find that book, then."

Druddigon snarled, and Nicholas practically scrambled past him. Sebastian followed, and as they passed Sebastian's colleagues the red-head said something to them in a low murmur.

Nicholas's mind raced. Lenora was in Opelucid, something about a conference - she would be back tomorrow. In the meantime, all her research was sitting neatly below them, in the basement room that used to double as a place for welcoming Trainers - Lenora had resigned from giving out the Basic Badge a couple of years ago. That honour fell now to a man named Cheren, in Aspertia City.

Nicholas had only been to Lenora's office once or twice - and at the time she would have been Gym Leader, he had never challenged the Gym - but he knew the hidden book in the back bookshelf opened the stairwell to her office.

It was _which_ bookshelf that was the trouble. Luckily Nicholas knew that Lydia, one of the Trainers that had stuck around after the closure of Nacrene Gym, usually could be found quite near it, and once he found the bookshelf he had no trouble finding the book itself. Sebastian watched him as he pulled on the book's spine; over the grinding of the staircase's entrance opening, the red-head remarked, "You ever challenge the Gym?"

Nicholas snorted. "I can barely challenge myself to get out of bed without coffee, let alone a _Gym_." he joked weakly, starting down the stairs first at Sebastian's insistence. "Do I look like I would make a good League Challenger?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I thought you were." he offered plainly. "The way you talked about Pokémon..."

Nicholas focused on not losing his footing and didn't bother to reply to that baffling statement - below them, Lenora's office was pitch black.

"Hold on, the light switch is here..." he muttered, groping along the side of the wall. Behind them, Druddigon was snuffling at the top of the stairs.

When he snapped on the light, illuminating the rich, dark brown walls of Lenora's study, he breathed a sigh of relief. Normally, a visitor descending would see Lenora's large, spacious desk, which was on a raised platform. Behind that desk, the wall was covered in bookcases, housing all of Lenora's pain-stakingly gathered research, and rare books that were too old or valuable to be displayed openly upstairs. It seemed, however, that when Lenora was out of her office the bookshelves could be mechanically slid into the wall, protecting that material. The wall behind Lenora's desk was currently the same as all the others; smooth, brown, and paneled.

"I think she keeps some of her research in her desk." Nicholas lied as they moved further into the office - truthfully, the only things Lenora kept in her desk were an abundance of pens, a mound of scrap paper, and a bulk tin of lemon drops.

It took Sebastian about five seconds to discover this, and with a snarl he ripped the mask from his face, mouth set in a scowl, and barked, "Sweetie, tear this place apart!"

"Wait - !" Nicholas started, but Druddigon had already lunged forward, and with a great sweep of shimmering claws, the Pokémon sent Lenora's desk flying, crashing into one of the walls.

"Do you think I'm playing around?" Sebastian demanded as his Druddigon continued her destruction; he seized Nicholas hard, by the upper arm. "Do you honestly think I'm playing around, here?"

"I think you're _crazy_." Nicholas said, brazenly. "Doing all this, destroying all this research...for what? I've seen your face...everyone in the _library_ saw your face! You'll be arrested, even if you manage to get out of here! What's the point?"

"I won't be arrested." Sebastian said, so calmly and matter of factly that Nicholas almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. "And you won't understand, Nicky. Not at first."

Still maintaining a painfully tight grip on Nicholas' arm, Sebastian pushed him towards Druddigon, who had used her massive claws to punch through the wall hiding the shelves and was now clumsily pawing through books and articles, flinging them onto the floor in front of her owner.

"Clever." Sebastian remarked, with contempt, then violently shoved Nicholas so he went tumbling to the floor.

"I'm looking for a book called '_Dual Duelling Dragons_'. Find it." he ordered bluntly; then, to his Druddigon, he ordered, "Watch him" before ascending the stairs.

Nicholas' knees ached from where he'd landed on the spines and edges of Lenora's books; when Druddigon began circling him, however, he pulled himself off the books so he could look through them.

So, he thought to himself, forcing his eyes to skim over titles, a group of people had destroyed a public building, taken hostages, vandalized the property of an ex-Gym Leader...and for what? A book? The title was wholly unfamiliar to him, as were the others he was currently whizzing by, shoving them hurriedly out of the way. He watched Druddigon out of the corner of his eye; now that her Trainer was gone, she looked bored, restlessly pacing, often sweeping a couple books across the floor with her large, cumbersome tail.

It was one of these skidding books that caught his attention, for no other reason than its cover had an emblazoned gold insignia on the front, a big round circle spiderwebbed with delicate lines and symbols that caught the dim office light. Nicholas crawled over to it, and flipped it open.

"_Dual Duelling Dragons_", it was printed in tiny type, and under it, "_or, conversely, concerning two brothers_".

This book was old, much older than any other book Nicholas had seen in this library. Some of the pages were crumbling, and the printing job was shoddy, leaving some letters bleeding together in a confusing, blurred mess. The book was thin and delicate, really not much longer or wider than his palm, and furtively Nicholas tucked it into his sweater, over his heart. Druddigon paced, unaware.

There was a great noise at the top of the stairs and Nicholas looked up, startled, as Tarsi came tumbling down, having obviously been kicked or thrown.

Sebastian followed, face screwed up in pain, shaking out his hand.

"It bit me, the little shit!" he complained in a whine to the person behind him. Nicholas noticed, with a bit of dread, that he had replaced his mask, but he was too busy bolting over to Tarsi, who was rolling himself upright with a pained little squealing sound.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" he demanded, cradling Tarsi in his arms, mindful of the hidden book.

Sebastian gave a careless shrug as he moved away from the stairs, allowing the masked man from before - the one who owned the Braviary and Heatmor - to fully descend. All Nicholas could fully see of his face were his eyes, and he was taking in Lenora's ruined office with a bit of disdain.

"Well? Did you find it?" he asked Sebastian, who in turn motioned to Nicholas, still crouched on the floor with Tarsi.

"Oh, shove off!" Nicholas snapped, bitterly. "I didn't find it, and honestly your Pokémon probably clawed it to _bits_. I hope you never find it!"

Sebastian looked, for the first time, a little nervous.

"You said it would be here." the man remarked with displeasure. "I risked my neck..."

"No, it's here." Sebastian sounded panicked, and stared Nicholas down. "I know it is, I did my research..."

Nicholas stared back; he knew it was impossible that Sebastian could know he had found and concealed the book, but he still felt nervous, and resisted the urge to place his hand over his chest.

The bark of a Herdier successfully distracted the two men, who turned mostly in annoyance than worry. The little Pokémon trotted down the stairs, sniffing experimentally in Nicholas' direction - the jingling bell on its collar alerted Nicholas to the identity of its owner, and he allowed himself to deflate in relief...about time!

"Sweetie.." Sebastian began saying to his Druddigon, but before he could say more the Herdier unleashed a Thunderbolt that stunned Druddigon long enough for Nicholas to scramble to his feet, Tarsi in his arms, and head for the stairs.

Hawes, Lenora's husband, was standing at the top of the stairs, Pokéball in hand. He looked relieved to see him.

"Nick!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright? Is Tarsi - "

"He's fine." Nicholas cut him off, quickly. "Hawes, quickly...they're after Lenora's research - "

They were interrupted as Hawes' Herdier was blasted backwards by Druddigon's deadly Dragon Claw.

"Poppy, here!" Hawes commanded and his Herdier tripped up the rest of the stairs, lithely, shaking off the hit with minimal incident.

"Nicky!" he heard Sebastian roar, angrily, and Nicholas tugged on Hawes' sleeve.

"Let's go!" he begged. "Let's get the rest of the hostages..."

"I took care of it," Hawes promised. "I came back to search for you - Paula told me you were still in here."

Nicholas inwardly reminded himself to buy Paula - who juggled a part time receptionist job at the museum with her budding interior decorating career - a month's worth of morning coffee runs.

Sebastian was taking the stairs now, two at a time, Druddigon at his heels, but there were police officers swarming into the library - Nicholas couldn't see the other members of Sebastian's gang but he supposed the police officers had taken care of them.

Sebastian froze on the steps, Druddigon snarling behind him. He was staring at Nicholas with his too-bright blue eyes, and after a moment Nicholas realized, in his fright, that he had pressed his palm flat against his chest, over the book he had stolen.

"You - " Sebastian began, but the voice of the man downstairs stopped him cold.

"Well, I suppose we must count this as a failure." Sebastian half-turned on the stairs, towards his boss's voice, but not before Nicholas caught the look in his eye - weirdly triumphant.

"No, I think we got what we came for after all." Sebastian replied smugly; then, to Druddigon, he ordered, "Flash Cannon!"

The Pokemon gathered up a brilliant light that had Nicholas squinting, and beside him he heard Hawes exclaim, angrily, amidst the clamour of the police officers. There was a tremendous noise, like a building collapsing, and when the light faded...

"They're gone!" one of the officers shouted - a hole had been blown through the back wall of the library, and Sebastian and the strange man had both escaped on the back of Druddigon, who was already in the air. Nicholas, having moved aside to allow the police officers by (some attempted to pursue, some filed into the basement to investigate), squeezed Tarsi tighter to his chest, mind still reeling.

Hawes put a friendly, almost fatherly hand on his arm.

"You sure you're alright, Nick?" he asked, kindly. "Not hurt, or...?"

"If you don't mind," Nicholas said, a little shakily, hand slipping into his sweater to press, reassuringly, against the infuriatingly mysterious book against his chest, "I was thinking of taking the afternoon off."

Hawes gave him an incredulous look, and his Herdier yapped.

"My dear boy," he said good-naturedly, "I should think you'll be taking the rest of the _week_ off, with what _you've_ been through. I'll let Lenora know."

Nicholas didn't argue too hard about _that_!

* * *

Callista tore out of Jack's shop without so much a word of goodbye (she owed him coffee, for sure - then again, as Beatrice always said, Callista created a whirlwind wherever she went...Jack must be used to it by now), heading towards her apartment as fast as she could. She kept her bike in her apartment's kitchen; with luck, she could be changed and on Skyarrow Bridge within a half hour. Daisy gave a little cry, barely avoiding an irate, bustling businessman in a suit, as she floated after her owner.

"Daisy, c'mon!" she urged, unknotting her hair from its bun and slinging it over her shoulder. Daisy made an irritated gurgling noise and floated higher, out of the reach of any accidental human shoulder bumping.

Judging by the friction in her shoeCallista suspected she had a run in her stocking, but she was past the point of caring; all she could think about was Nicholas, and the museum.

She'd met Nicholas in art history class - she'd taken it just to fill an elective but it was Nicholas' major. Nicholas had been one of her first friends at Castelia University, Callista having moved from a small town to attend school, and the two had hit it off. If anything had happened to him...

Callista's apartment was in a newly renovated building - called "Sages' Landing", the building used to house offices, across from Castelia Gym, until new management had transformed the place into a set of affordable one- and two-bedroom apartments. Fitting her key into the front door, Callista held the door open with her foot so Daisy could slip through, and then jammed her thumb anxiously against the elevator button, headed for the sixth floor.

She shared her apartment with Beatrice, normally, when her friend was here during school, but with Beatrice working out of town, they had agreed that they would rent the second bedroom out for the summer months. Currently Beatrice's room was occupied by Jonah, a quiet, keep-to-himself kind of guy, who had come in from Sinnoh on a boat and was working at Studio Castelia for the summer. Jonah kept weird hours for work, so Callista didn't bother call out a greeting when she entered the apartment, kicking her shoes off and hastening for her bedroom.

The apartment was in a constant state of disarray. There was a suitcase near the sofa that hadn't been unpacked since her second year of university, probably, and the big easels she used for school projects took up one side of the living room. Callista's bike was by the sliding glass door that led out onto the woefully tiny balcony (barely enough room to stand comfortably, forget about chairs!), and there were a pile of books Beatrice had been meaning to read since she was seventeen sitting on a side table full of other assorted knick-knacks. It was cramped and dirty but it was theirs - the walls were covered in Callista's past art projects, the ones she hadn't sold, and Beatrice had taken to filching posters from every movie they went to see at Castelia Theatre and tacking them up in the living room.

Beatrice's bedroom door was shut tight, usually meaning Jonah was out, and from where she stood Callista could tell she left the lamp on in her own bedroom.

She moved forward, beginning to unbutton her blouse, but Daisy blocked her from moving forward, curling her body inward in a Defense Curl.

"Daisy, what - " she began, and then someone dropped something in her room.

She froze.

"Jonah?" she called, with a bit of irritation. "Jonah, I told you - they're not "crayons", they're pastels, and they cost more than all of those ratty jeans you own put together so no, you _can't_ use them to make birthday cards!"

Daisy had pushed her head into Callista's midsection, attempting to push her backwards, but Callista was already at her bedroom.

She and Beatrice had played rock paper scissors for this "master bedroom" - really, it was only a little bit bigger than the other bedroom, but the reason the two of them fought over it was because of the windows (lovely, big ones that looked over the back of the apartment building, which housed a pretty little communal garden) and the hardwood floors, blonde wood that creaked comfortably under Callista's feet and reminded her of her childhood home in Undella Town.

Right now nearly a quarter of the hardwood floor had been ripped up, and there was a man crouched over the ruined floor, dressed in black, a mask obscuring his features. A Liepard slunk around him, tail curling in the air.

Callista's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. The Liepard hissed, and Daisy, still pressed against Callista's stomach, began humming gently, gathering energy for a Zen Headbutt.

The man raised a palm. "Maybe you can help me." he began.

Callista screamed.

* * *

The grass on either side of Beatrice made a weird, dry, whistling sound as she whizzed by on her bike, headed for Village Bridge. She had closed up Mr. Thornside's shop immediately, grabbed her bike, and left, meaning to use what she had kept nestled away in her cupboard for the past couple of months - an HM given to her by a Ranger she'd met in Castelia City when she worked at the docks there last summer.

In Unova, there were several ways of getting around, one of the most well-known to Trainers, of course, being the use of the move Fly, which gave the Pokemon that learned it a burst of speed and strength allowing it to propel its Trainer from city to city - even if there was an almost comical disparity in size. Once or twice, Beatrice had thought to use it on Mandy, but the idea of hanging onto her Pokemon's leathery feet from here to Castelia or Nacrene (and Mandy was known to bite if she got testy) had never quite appealed to her.

Mostly, city-dwellers would rely on the trains; there were several high-speed ones that connected major cities (Nimbasa, Castelia, Opelucid, etc...) with an ease and convenience most people preferred. If you didn't have a Pokémon, you were safe from wild ones on the high-tech trains; if you did, the train's policy allowed you to let them out on board, free to wander; there were even Pokésnacks available from convenient machines or food carts wheeled down the aisles on longer trips. One of the major Unovian routes stretched north to south and another east to west, effectively hitting most of the big cities.

For the smaller towns - places like Lacunosa and Village Bridge definitely did _not_ have the luxury of a high-speed train! - there were two options; the slower speed trains, mostly above ground (as opposed to the high speed Subway, whose route was split half above and half under-ground) and a mix of cargo transport and passenger transport; and buses. The bus system was extensive, hitting nearly all the places the trains missed - cheap too, but unfortunately slow! Beatrice had taken the bus to Village Bridge from Icirrus City (and had ended up bawling when the bridge had come into view, desolate and simple and so, so lonely looking - an elderly lady going to visit her sister, who had the misfortune to be sitting next to her on the bus, had been awkwardly left with the task of comforting her).

It hadn't always been this way. Beatrice's grandmother could tell her stories of never leaving her hometown; growing up with the same friends, marrying her next door neighbour, and never seeing the other side of Unova until her eldest son's wedding, an extravagant vacation that took her to bustling Nimbasa, where she was overwhelmed. And Unova was a bit of an isolated case; in Hoenn, trains were expensive and slow to cross the expansive land (and on top of that, service was limited by the large expanses of water); Kanto and Johto, miles away, kept their sense of traditionalism intact, and towns and cities found themselves isolated and the journeys between them possible only for those with a hardy Pokémon. Unova, in contrast, seemed a little more...accessible.

Some Pokémon emerged at the edge of the grass, curious but wary of the sound of her bike's tires; most of them went scuttling off, though, when they heard Mandy's screech, and the beat of her wings as she dipped low, over her owner's speeding figure. The Route was unusually empty - it was still early afternoon, so she knew a couple of Trainers (only by sight, really) who were continually out on the Route, training their Pokémon. On a hot day like this, maybe, they had all taken a break.

Suddenly, Mandy started squawking, a high, frantic sound that made her wince. Beatrice looked wildly around, expecting maybe a hidden Trainer or aggressive Pokémon that her Mandibuzz was warning her about...but everything was silent, save for the weird, whistling grass.

Above her Mandy continued to kick up a fuss and, craning her neck, Beatrice squinted as her Pokémon's silhouette against the bright sun went wheeling sharply left, over one of the hills.

Beatrice looked back towards the path...and squeezed her brakes so hard she went flying over the front of her bike and onto the grass, sending up a spray of dirt and scraping up her arms.

There was a Pokémon standing in the middle of the road, silent, unafraid; its sharp eyes watched her as she struggled up into a sitting position, mouthing pained curse words into her palm. Above, Mandy circled, once, twice, before descending, perching on the end of Beatrice's up-ended bicycle.

Working her jaw (she was pretty sure she scraped up her cheek), Beatrice felt oddly reassured by the weighty presence of her Pokémon behind her, and took a good, long look at the creature in front of her.

She suddenly understood Mandy's uneasiness. In all her time at Mr. Thornside's place, she had never seen this Pokémon in the wild before. She _had_ seen it before, though, in storybooks her mother had read her when she was a child, and in legends.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" she asked it, as Entei, legendary dog of Johto, pawed the ground and stared her down with impenetrable eyes. Mandy squawked, and to the south, dark clouds heralded the coming of a storm.

* * *

**END CHAPTER ONE**

* * *

Author's Notes: If you are reading this, I can't believe you got through everything. Thank you for having an interest in this story! This is definitely going to be a work in progress - I had so much trouble deciding on a "time" to set this in and will probably be going back to edit and re-edit this as the story builds. I wanted this to be set post B/W, for sure, but I wanted the characters to remember the events of B/W as happening when they were children. Originally I had hoped that B2/W2 would not specify how long it had been since B/W events so that I could "play" with that time in between the two games - I feel like one could reasonably argue Cheren and Bianca's redesigns could place them either as teenagers or as young adults. People seem to age quite well in these games!

On the official Pokémon website, however, I realized it cites that B2/W2 takes place 2 years after B/W, which means I don't have as much leeway as I would have hoped. A part of me was hoping I could slip this story in between the two games - I haven't played B2/W2 yet and didn't want to spoil too much of the plot for myself beforehand. However, it looks like there's no way around it - I want seven years, and game-canon is giving me two! The hardest part will be keeping the changes straight in my head...I had to go back and re-write a bit when I remembered that Cheren was the one giving out the Basic Badge now.

Er...might be a bit too late (sorry) but as such, there will be spoilers. Nothing too major...I really want to focus on the lore and the mythology and the interaction of humans and Pokémon, etc... rather than talking about N and Hilbert and company. Obviously you can't go through Unova without running into a _few_ familiar faces, but this is primarily an OC story - I am warning you now!

I think that's everything I wanted to explain. I really hope you enjoy...stay tuned for more!


	2. Concerning Useless Items

"What are you doing in my room?" Callista demanded, one hand clenched on the doorframe. The man stood, his Liepard at his heels.

"I didn't think you'd be home 'til later." he said, in the pleasant, conversational tones of two people chatting about the weather. Daisy floated forward, bravely - the Liepard was eyeing her with disdain.

Taking advantage of Daisy's courage, Callista cut and run to the living room - when Beatrice was in high school, she and her father attended a baseball game in Nimbasa City; she later received, for her birthday, a bat signed by her favourite player ("favourite" in Beatrice's language meant, "the cutest one"). This bat was stored behind the couch, and Beatrice used to take a few swings with it in the living room before exams - a good luck ritual. It was this Callista headed toward, and when she turned the man had followed her, standing between her and the bedroom. His Liepard and Daisy were ominously absent.

"What do you want?" she asked, a betraying tremor in her voice; she gripped Beatrice's baseball bat like it was a lifeline.

"It's okay." the man soothed from behind his mask, holding up both hands. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Callista gave a strained laugh. "Well, then you shouldn't have _broken into my apartment_!" she exclaimed, transferring the bat to one hand so she could pull out her Xtransceiver. "I'm calling the police - "

"Oh, no." the man clicked his tongue sympathetically, and his Liepard sprang lithely into the room, Daisy nowhere to be seen. "No, no, you can't do that. Not yet."

Liepard crouched, ready. Callista steadied the bat, terrified. Could she hit a Pokémon?

Suddenly the man's eyes became unfocused, as his Liepard wobbled on her feet.

"Wait..." he slurred. "What - ?"

Then he toppled; his Liepard clung to consciousness for a few seconds longer, before she too slid to the floor.

Blinking, Callista lowered the bat. Daisy had floated in behind them, and her eyes were glowing strangely. Staring for too long, Callista felt herself being drawn into her Pokémon's hypnotic suggestion as well.

"Okay, that's enough." she mumbled, and Daisy cooed an apology, ceasing her Hypnosis and approaching her with worry. On the floor, the man and his Pokémon slept - Callista wasn't sure how long Daisy's Hypnosis lasted for, but she didn't want to wait around to find out.

Dialing the police, she carried her Xtransceiver in one hand as she scoured the apartment for something to tie the man up with.

"Castelia police - what's your emergency?" a stern-faced, dark-haired woman appeared on the Xtransceiver.

"There's a man in my house," Callista whispered as she rummaged through her kitchen cupboards. "He was tearing up my floor. My Munna put him to sleep though. Please send someone right away!"

"We're on our way." the policewoman promised, after Callista gave her address and information.

Callista moved to her bedroom; stepping gingerly over the mess of ripped up floorboards, she pulled several scarves from her closet. Returning to the living room, she procured a cheap folding chair from their makeshift dining area (four fold up chairs and a card table did not a dining room make, as she kept telling Beatrice!) and grabbed the man under his arms, pulling his dead weight laboriously up into the chair. Daisy tried to help - Callista appreciated the sentiment. She clumsily knotted her scarves, securing the stranger's hands and feet to the chair.

Glancing nervously at his Liepard (who was starting to stir in her sleep), Callista rummaged awkwardly in the man's pockets, pulling out Liepard's Pokéball and recalling her. As she placed the ball on the coffee table, something else fell out of his pocket, landing with a thump on the carpet.

It was a rock, just about the size of her closed fist - not something she'd entertain carrying around in her pocket but as she leaned over to pick it up she paused, frowning. It had a weird sheen to it, like a five year old had painted it over with glitter. When she picked it up, it felt like she was touching a machine; it almost seemed to vibrate.

That was impossible though, she reasoned. It was a _rock_.

She moved to put it back in his pocket but as she touched him the man's chin slid lower on his chest and he mumbled something; losing her nerve, she practically scrambled away from the chair, getting onto her feet and turning from him to pick up the bat.

"Okay." she took a few deep breaths, squeezing the weapon for courage. "Okay, okay..."

"...What the fuck...?" the groggy murmur behind her made her jump and yelp, and she turned back to see the man lifting his head, the confusion on his face deepening as he saw the scarves.

"What happened?" he demanded; then, "Where's Petra?"

Callista assumed he meant his Liepard, and she pointed at the coffee table.

Placated, the man's eyes went immediately to her hand - with a start, she realized she was still holding the rock.

"You have no idea what that is, do you?" he asked her quietly, making no attempt to even struggle.

"I don't care what it is." she replied with a bit of bite. "I called the police, they're on their way, and I just want you out of here."

"Look, I'm sorry." the man's voice was soothing, and behind the mask his dark eyes were attentive and focused, sizing up her reactions. "But it was the only way. I made sure I came when I knew you and your friend would be at work."

"That doesn't make me feel better!" Callista exclaimed with a fresh rush of fear. Had he been _watching_ them? For how long?

The man laughed. "Don't you want to know what I was looking for?" he asked, slyly. "Let me go, and I'll tell you. I'll let you see. I guarantee, if you understood what I was doing, you'd let me walk out of here. You'd probably even join me."

This man was crazy, Callista realized. He was in her apartment, he was crazy, and there were only a handful of cheap scarves between him and her. Repressing a shudder, she backed up a couple of steps, the weight of the baseball bat reassuring. Daisy pressed herself into her owner's hip.

"Have you ever seen a god, Callista?" he asked, eagerly. "Have you ever wanted to? Maybe there was a reason I found that in your room." he nodded at the rock in her hand. "Maybe it's a sign it's time to open your eyes to the truth in this world."

There was a sharp rap at the door, and the announcement, "Police! Are you hurt?"

Callista could barely tear her eyes from the man's; his near-fanatical words had stunned her, but she came to life as the two police officers entered her apartment, one with her handgun drawn.

"Officer Jenny." the dark-haired officer flashed her badge as her fellow officer worked at untying the stranger, cuffs at the ready.

"Hi." Callista said, breathlessly, dropping the bat with a clatter. "Thank you for coming."

Jenny nodded. "Tell us what happened." she said; as her partner hauled the man to his feet, she reached over and took off his mask, tearing back his hood as well.

Underneath, Callista was surprised to see that the man was young; probably younger than her! He had a pinched looking face, like he was in perpetual discomfort, and the shock of hair on top of his head was pale, almost white. He made no move to fight the officers, and his face belied nothing but calm serenity. He kept his eyes locked on Callista as the officer tried to hustle him to the door.

"Officer Jenny." he said smoothly, as he was escorted. "Don't forget my Pokémon, if you please."

Officer Jenny shot him a cold look; as he nodded towards the coffee table, she picked up the Pokéball and pocketed it.

Then the man returned his eyes to Callista, a strange smile stretched across his face.

"My name is Paarce." he told her, simply. "Remember that, Callista."

"Shut up." the other officer said, jostling him out the door. Callista watched him go, a stunned look on her face; Jenny said, "Would you like to sit down?"

"I, uh - yeah." Callista sat down on the couch, putting a hand on her forehead. Daisy stuck close to her, cooing.

Jenny surveyed the apartment with a cool, observant eye.

"Well!" she said crisply. "Let's get a report filled out, shall we, Miss Fairweather?"

Callista, who just wanted to crawl into bed, groaned.

* * *

As the Entei took a calm, measured step towards her, Beatrice scrambled to her feet, skinned knee burning and head throbbing. She wasn't quite sure where to go from here...should she bow? Make a wish? Throw a Pokéball? Somehow she felt like the Entei could sense her hesitation, and when it took another step its whole body shimmered, like it was dissolving.

Instead, from behind its great paws stepped two little girls - twins, in fact, who lived next door to Beatrice in Icirrus City and whom she used to babysit when she was younger. Their names were Molly and Christine, tiny little freckled things, and there was _no_ way they could possibly be here, in the middle of Route 12, with a legendary Pokémon.

"What the hell?" Beatrice murmured, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The girls didn't seem to see her - their eyes looked straight past her, and after a second they began to clap and sing.

Icirrus City had many folk songs and fairytales, and Beatrice had often seen the twins outside their house, singing and jumping rope to the same chants Beatrice herself had sung with her friends when _she_ was younger (her particular childhood favourite had been, "_Snover, Snover, come on over_")...but she didn't recognize this one. It felt solemn somehow, nearly tuneless, and the girls were clapping along with it; one of them had covered her eyes the entire time as she sang.

Behind them, the Entei stood perfectly still, and Beatrice felt confused.

So...was this a sign, or...?

"Excuse me," Beatrice said as politely as she could considering the circumstances, "But I think this is all going over my head. Perhaps you could explain with something that doesn't involve terrifying chants?"

The Entei tilted its head and the girls dissolved, suddenly, like paper being burned; as Beatrice let out a yelp, it too disappeared.

It was like Beatrice had blinked and the Entei had risen away with her eyelids. The road was empty, dusty, and behind her she heard her bicycle wheel rotating, creakily, in the dry breeze. She thought she could still hear clapping.

"Did you - " she turned to see Mandy preening herself.

She was going crazy, she decided, stiffly righting her bike and clambering on. She was seeing things; she'd hit her head and now she was seeing things. Gingerly, she touched the sorest spot. Tender, but bearable; and no blood, which was always a relief. Mandy took flight as Beatrice began to pedal down the road.

Still, the encounter had unnerved her, hallucination or not. Signs and encounters of legendary Pokémon were taken very seriously, and in the past, Pokémon had been said to predict natural disasters, changes in environment and even, on rare occasions, a person's future, bringing message to humans of events that would, or had already, happened. Her mother, a fairly superstitious woman, had always told her to trust her gut, and to trust Pokémon; that whatever they had to say, she should listen.

Nicholas once told her a story about his great-uncle, who had sworn up and down his whole life that a pure white Lopunny had appeared to him while he was working in Oreburgh Mine minutes before his wife passed away - Lopunny was her favourite Pokémon.

Beatrice began to feel uneasy. She had returned to her parent's home in Icirrus for barely a week after university ended, before she had taken off for Village Bridge. Sure, she phoned pretty regularly, but how would Beatrice know if everything was fine at home?

Molly and Christine would be about eight now. What if...?

Nauseous, Beatrice pulled over onto the side of the road, pulling out her Xtransceiver and phoning her mother before she could really think about what she was doing. Every ring made her feel sicker, so the sight of her mother's face on the screen - open, friendly, free of sorrow - filled Beatrice with a sense of both relief and a bit of foolishness. Just what had she been expecting?

"Hello lovey!" her mother greeted her - with thin, blonde hair and light features, Irene Candlestar didn't look like she could be the mother of dark-haired Beatrice (it was a family joke; her mother always said, "If I didn't give birth to her, I would never have believed she was mine!"). "What a nice surprise!"

"Hi Mummy." Beatrice gave a little wave, talking fast with relief. "How's everything? How's Dad? How're you? How're the neighbours?"

Her mother laughed. "Fine, fine, fine, and...fine." she teased. "Honestly, you don't phone for a week and all of a sudden you're full of questions!"

"Sorry." Beatrice apologized, sheepishly. "Just...been feeling a bit homesick lately. Hey, weirdly enough, I was just thinking about those two girls I used to babysit. The twins. Have you seen them around lately?"

"Oh! Yes!" her mother snapped her fingers. "You know, they just came over yesterday, actually. Their mother got them each a Cottonee for their birthday, and they wanted to know if Rose would like to play with them. It was adorable..I took a picture, I'll send it to you!"

Beatrice smiled - Rose, her mother's fat, grumpy old Raticate, probably hadn't been too pleased when cornered by two excitable little girls and their Cottonees for a "play date".

"So...everything's fine?" she ventured. "All good? No news?"

"No." her mother frowned. "Is there something wrong? Why all the questions?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong!" Beatrice was quick to assure her. "Just...thinking of home, like I said. That's all."

"Oh." her mother still didn't look convinced, so Beatrice added, "Anyways, just wanted to call and check up on you! I'll phone you, proper, later. I'm actually on my way back to my place."

"Don't you have work?" her mother wanted to know.

"Yeah, but - _shit_!" Beatrice had completely forgotten about Nicholas - in her defense, it was hard to think of _anything_ when confronted by an Entei and two eight year olds. "Shit, I totally forgot...sorry Mama, I'll call you back, I was going back because of Callista...oh man. I gotta go!" she hung up before her mother could really say goodbye, and started biking again, with fervor.

"Oh my God, Nick, if you're dead I am going to _kill_ you."

* * *

By the time Nicholas finished up with the police and was able to leave the Library, it was well into mid-afternoon. Hawes had insisted he stay away from work for a week - "Or longer," the researcher had added, "If you don't feel ready".

Nicholas had a loft rented in Nacrene City, not too far from the Museum. It was in one of the renovated warehouses, and he shared the place with a guy a few years older than he was, named Alexsei - Alexsei had been surprisingly fine with Nicholas only renting for the summer. He had mentioned he had a problem keeping roommates for long, and Nicholas was quick to find out why. Alexsei spent most of his time working on bizarre concept art and fluctuated between overly friendly and a brooding hermit (with an emphasis on brooding). After getting past Alexsei's snappish and brusque exterior, Nicholas didn't mind him as a roommate - he was a bit messy, sure, but they both liked to keep to themselves and that suited Nicholas just fine.

The loft was sparsely furnished in the common areas, but Nicholas was able to more intimately decorate his bedroom, which was small but cozy, with a little window that overlooked the unused tracks outside their building. His desk area was covered in photographs of his family and friends, and his bookshelf filled with novels that brought him comfort when he was away from home. His books for his research took up the space the photographs didn't, and he had a little Pokébed set up in the corner filled with blankets that Tarsi liked to cocoon himself in.

Alexsei was, surprisingly, outside his room when Nicholas let himself in through the front door; with a body frame that could only be described as "malnourished ten year old", tufty hair and almost cartoonishly big ears, Alexsei's only concern in life was his art and his cigarettes; the only thing Nicholas had insisted on when he agreed to rent with Alexsei was that he didn't smoke inside while they were living together. Alexsei had surprisingly agreed, with reluctance, but Nicholas was pretty sure he still smoked in his room, sneakily.

"You're back." Alexsei said, not looking up. "We have no more toothpicks."

Nicholas paused, kicking off his shoes.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I used them all." Alexsei continued arranging something on a garbage bag he had spread out across the floor.

"...Doing _what_?" Nicholas insisted; Alexsei hunched over his work, ruffling his light brown hair.

"Not important."

Sighing, Nicholas offered, "So I was taken hostage at work today. That's why I'm home early. In case you were wondering."

"Mm." Alexsei took a cigarette out of the pack and chewed on it plaintively - he often did this to attempt to guilt-trip Nicholas into smoking indoors, which never worked. Alexsei's Venipede Tanya, and his Whirlipede Vanya, were snoozing on the weird vinyl couch - Alexsei said it belonged to his uncle, but Nicholas felt like that was a cover up for what was obviously a couch pulled from a junkyard.

"Also," the artist added, "We're out of milk. So."

That was Alexsei's way of asking Nicholas to go get milk.

"So." Nicholas retorted, not in the mood for obliging his roommate, and went to his room.

Letting Tarsi hop out of his arms and onto his bed, Nicholas had to dig through his bag to reach his Xtransceiver, which had started to ring.

As soon as he answered, Callista, on the other end, screamed, "_NICK_! _YOU'RE OKAY_"

"Jeez...hi Callista." Nicholas asked. "I guess you saw the news?"

"Yes! I tried to call you, but...ugh. You're out now, though, so that's all that matters. What happened?"

She sat patiently through his rather winded explanation of it all, though he kept it short - talking about it still made him feel uneasy, as if that Druddigon was going to come barging through the door at any moment.

At the end, Callista made a weird noise.

"Dressed all in black?" she repeated. "With a mask, right? And they were just looking for a book?"

"Yeah. Something..._Dual Duelling Dragons_ or something like that. He was really insistent." Nicholas scratched his nose, and absently touched the book in his sweater.

Callista's eyebrows were doing that weird scrunchy thing they did when she was upset. "I, uh - after I tried to call you, I went home, I was going to grab my bike and come to Nacrene. I'm still on my way, by the way," she added. "But I had a...set back."

"Set back?" Nicholas repeated faintly.

"There was a guy in my apartment." Callista explained, over Nicholas' exclamation. "I don't know how he got in...the door wasn't broken into or anything, obviously, or I would have noticed sooner. But he was dressed all in black...with a mask. And he was looking for...I guess a rock. Yeah. He was looking for a rock. But then Daisy put him to sleep and I tied him to my kitchen chair and the police came and arrested him. So I guess that ended well."

"Wait, Daisy put him to sleep?" Nicholas asked in incredulity, and looked over at Tarsi.

"You didn't do anything like that!" his accusation was playful, but the Swadloon still looked rather affronted. Nicholas reached over to pat him on the head as an apology.

"So - what, you think they were from the same...team?" he continued. "If that's even the right word. If they were dressed the same..."

Callista shrugged. "I mean, I guess anyone can put on a mask and some black clothes and rob someone, right? Doesn't mean it's related. I didn't see a mark on his uniform or anything so it could be coincidence."

Nicholas shook his head. "It just seems a little too much like a coincidence. And he wanted a...rock, you said?"

"Yeah! After the police left, I checked my bedroom...he'd torn up my floorboards, and there was this little space under it, with this metal box. It was empty, and this was the only thing I found on the guy." she held up the little, shining rock in front of the Xtransceiver. "I dunno, it could be like from a meteorite or something?"

Nicholas squinted at it. "Dunno - there's a meteorite at the museum, and it doesn't look like that. Maybe it's a collectible? You should get it appraised."

Callista gave him an apprehensive look. "Yeah...anyways, I'm about to head over Skyarrow. I'll be about a half hour. I just need to wait for Jonah - I phoned him earlier but he's headed home from work now."

"You don't have to come over." Nicholas insisted, feeling sheepish.

"Trust me...the less time I spend in the apartment, the better." Callista laughed. "Honestly, it's no big deal. We'll get dinner together. Uh, Beatrice should be on her way too. I have no idea how she's getting here though. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"OK. Bye Cal."

When Nicholas stepped out of his room again Alexsei looked up.

"We're out of milk." he repeated, helpfully.

Nicholas sighed and went to go get his wallet.

* * *

The funny thing about Pokémon was Beatrice knew _nothing_ about them. She was pretty sure half of Mandy's behavioural problems stemmed from the fact that she hadn't collected a single League Badge; it could also be that Mandy was a jerk, a sadistic one at that, but Beatrice was particularly reminded of her inexperience with the whole "Trainer" thing when she reached the Village Bridge, raced up the stairs to the room she rented, and dug the HM from her backpack.

"Well, shit." she said to Mandy, who was gnawing at her bedpost. "I think I need a TM Case."

Her friendly elderly renters didn't have one, but apparently their grandson was back in town and _he_ had one, which sent her in a rush across the Bridge to where the grandson, Tyler, was visiting his mother before taking on the Pokémon League.

Tyler, who was twelve with a goofy freckled face and a faded baseball hat, and made her feel like the dumbest person alive, was more than happy to lend her his Case, and was polite enough not to laugh when she had no idea how to use it.

"Your HM goes in the slot here...see?" Tyler slid the HM into the top and the machine began humming. "Now, make Mandibuzz stand in front of it."

Beatrice complied, gave Mandy a quick pat, then backed away like it was a time bomb.

Tongue between his teeth in concentration, Tyler steadied the Case and pressed a silver button on top. Mandy blinked once, twice, as a great flash of light emanated from the Case, like a very weird, boxy camera.

"Okay!" Tyler said after a beat. "She should be good to go."

"That's it?" Beatrice gave Mandy a once over; she didn't look any different, except a bit more peeved-looking.

"Yup! She'll be able to fly you wherever you want. Er...are you going like that?" Tyler scratched his head, looking concerned, and Beatrice looked down at herself - nothing out of the ordinary, just shorts and a dark grey camisole.

"I'm kind of in a rush." she explained.

"At least wear a hat." Tyler advised with a wince. "Trust me. It can get cold when you're flying around, especially for a long time."

And, honestly, Beatrice had been convinced it wouldn't work. How could she expect a three foot tall Pokémon to carry her all the way to Nacrene? After saying a defeated goodbye to Tyler and wishing him luck ("Next time you see me, I'll be Champion!" the boy had vowed sunnily), she had headed out to the very east edge of the Bridge, where the packed rows of houses tapered off, and waited 'til Mandy had settled on the Bridge railing.

"Okay, listen," Beatrice told her Pokémon, imploringly. "Nicholas is potentially in a lot of trouble. You remember Nicholas, right? You liked him."

True, Mandy _had_ found Nicholas quite tasty, and he could be counted on to slip her treats from time to time. She let out a shrill cry of agreement.

"Great. So, we _need_ to get to Nacrene as quickly as possible. So I know neither of us have done this before - the Flying thing, I mean - so we have to try our best. Okay?"

Her apprehension must have been obvious, because the nibble Mandy delivered to her fingers was unusually tender.

Beatrice took a breath, and took a moment to make sure the backpack she'd brought had everything she needed for a stay over in Nacrene.

"Well, then...now or never. Fly, Mandy!"

Mandy took off with a powerful flap of her wings.

"Wait - no - _with_ me!" Beatrice shrieked, but Mandy just seemed to be testing out her speed; she was a veritable blur above her head, and as Beatrice squinted up at her, her Mandibuzz took a sharp nose dive at a near-impossible speed and seized her by the shoulders with her scaly claws.

Screaming bloody murder, Beatrice was hoisted into the air with a shoulder-wrenching jerk.

"I changed my mind!" she bellowed, gripping her Pokémon's feet as the scenery began to speed by. "We'll take the bus!"

* * *

The sun was getting lower in the sky as Callista locked her bike up outside the modest bookstore that made up the bottom level of a renovated warehouse. In her bike's basket, Daisy poked her nose over the edge, looking like she had dozed off during the trip.

Nicholas' place was on the top level of the warehouse, and to save them tromping through the store every day, there were a set of wooden stairs built against the side of the building that led to the apartment's front door. As Callista ascended, she caught sight of Nicholas' roommate, Alexsei, sitting on the railing, smoking.

"Hi." Callista greeted brightly, Daisy in tow. "Is Nicholas around?"

Alexsei jabbed his thumb at the door.

"Inside." he grunted, and she had to awkwardly maneuver around him, into the apartment.

Nicholas was in the kitchen with Tarsi, boiling water for tea, and the two friends hugged each other tightly - Callista felt the urge to cry. Tarsi greeted Daisy with a friendly pat.

"Well...today will make a good story to tell the grandchildren, right?" Nicholas asked as they separated; he poured water into the teapot.

"Sure." Callista laughed weakly. "A real nail-biter. But...the guys who took the library hostage escaped, didn't they? Aren't you worried?"

Nicholas fiddled with the sugar spoon. Truthfully, he _was_ worried. The book was still wrapped in his sweater, in the laundry hamper (a little excessive, he knew), and he hadn't told anyone - Hawes, the police, not even _Callista_ - that he had taken it. He obviously planned to return it to the library, and he felt guilty about taking it in the first place, but the sheer urgency of Sebastian's search for it had made him unusually curious. Just _what_ was so important?

"Yeah." he admitted, finally, adding, "But I gave a description to the police, so I don't think it'll be long before they get arrested."

Callista looked like she wanted to say something, but Alexsei chose that moment to poke his head through the front door.

"A girl just crash-landed out back. Do you have a bandage?"

Callista and Nicholas exchanged glances.

Beatrice was lying flat on her back on the grass behind the bookstore, Mandy perched on her stomach, making irritated squawking sounds. Beatrice's face was bright red, whipped raw by the wind, and she was breathing hard in between gasps of either laughter or sobs.

"Bee!" Callista scampered down the stairs, Nicholas on her heels; Alexsei remained at the top, lighting another cigarette.

Beatrice sat up, and Mandy immediately leaned forward and bit her owner on the nose.

"Shit!" she swore, still winded. "That was - ow! Mandy!"

"Are you okay? You're all red - oh!" Callista had touched her; Beatrice was ice cold. Coming down from her adrenaline high, the curly-haired girl started to shiver.

"I'm never doing that again." she declared. "That was too crazy!"

Then, unprovoked, she snarled, "That kid was right - I should've brought a hat!"

Once she had sat down with hot tea and a blanket, Beatrice explained - "She picked me up with her claws, I thought I'd just be awkwardly dangling the whole time to Nacrene. But then all of a sudden we were moving so fast and the wind was in my face and I couldn't see - ugh. I should have brought goggles or a scarf or something. I'm _frozen_." Beatrice touched her lips, which were extremely chapped.

"How long ago did you leave?" Callista asked, adding a teaspoon of honey to her tea.

Beatrice craned her neck to check the microwave clock.

"Fifteen minutes ago." she admitted, sounding shocked; Nicholas and Callista echoed the sentiment.

"I mean, I can definitely see why people love Flying with their Pokémon," she continued. "But a bigger Pokémon would be necessary, for sure. I'm pretty sure I'm never Flying with Mandy again unless it's an emergency. Maybe if I had something like a Druddigon..."

Nicholas gave a little shudder, and suddenly Beatrice seemed to remember why she was there in the first place.

"_You're alive_!" she exclaimed, reaching over the table and grabbing Nicholas' hands with her own, ice cold ones. "What the fuck happened?"

Obligingly, Nicholas repeated his story, and Callista chimed in with her own home invasion. At the end, Beatrice leaned back in her chair, looking a little troubled.

"What a weird day." she said, rubbing absently at her cheek.

"Are you okay?" Nicholas asked. "Your face..."

"Hm? Oh." Beatrice poked at the tender scrape. "I fell off my bike."

She was suspiciously short on the matter - Beatrice had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous or upset, but Nicholas brushed it off to the frantic experience she had earlier.

Instead, Beatrice sighed and scratched Mandy's head - the Pokémon had stuck unusually close to her ("She's sulking." Beatrice explained. "She didn't like Flying with me any more than I did with her!") and was sitting on the back of her chair.

"Arceus," she swore, "and you had someone break into the _apartment_, Callista? I bet you're not too thrilled to go back there..."

"I was going to ask if I could spend the night." Callista ventured hesitantly, looking at Nicholas for approval. "I don't want to stay at my place. Not tonight, at least."

"Definitely." Nicholas agreed without hesitation. "You too, Beatrice." he added. "I'm guessing you're not Flying back?"

Mandy made a weird hissing noise.

"I think she'd kill me." Beatrice offered with a sheepish grin. Then, "Hey, are you guys hungry? I could eat a Ponyta."

Mandy bit her on the ear.

"Okay do I have to spray you every time you do that? Owww!" Beatrice whined.

"Food sounds good." Nicholas agreed. "Maybe you should put disinfectant on that scrape first, though."

"Good idea." Beatrice said, and got up to rummage in the bathroom for the first aid kit.

Callista tickled Tarsi under her chin while Nicholas finished the last of his tea. His thoughts strayed, again, to the book in his sweater. He couldn't keep this just to himself, and Callista and Beatrice were as good as anybody at keeping a secret, at least when it mattered.

"Let's go to Café Warehouse," he suggested when Beatrice meandered back into the kitchen, patting her face gingerly with a cotton pad. "They've got great pasta. I'll grab my sweater."

Once they were tucked away in a corner booth at Café Warehouse, a popular restaurant close to Nicholas' apartment, the trio was nearly done their respective dinners before Nicholas worked up enough courage to pull the book from its hiding place.

"I may have kept some things from you." he admitted. "_This_ is what those guys were looking for today. This book...Sebastian, the guy I talked to, was really insistent about finding it."

"So..._you_ stole it instead?" Beatrice asked, sliding it over to her side of the table and flipping through it. Nicholas bristled.

"I didn't! I'll give it back!"

"I was kidding." Beatrice assured, weakly, pushing it back towards him. "Okay. So. You want to find out why they risked their necks to steal this. And you're sure this was the _only_ thing they wanted?"

"As far as I know." Nicholas replied, fiddling with a fraying corner. "He wanted it bad, too. I have no idea what it is, I haven't had a chance to read it, and I've _never_ heard of it before. Not through my research, or anything."

"Hm." Beatrice propped her arms up on the table. "So...you two think it's connected to the guy who broke into Cal's apartment?"

Callista and Nicholas exchanged looks. "They were wearing the same thing - all black, masks...but that doesn't mean much." Nicholas offered.

"On the same day?" Beatrice pressed. "Near the same time, both looking for specific things that aren't really of great value to anyone?" she crinkled her nose.

"Seems fishy."

"Very fishy." Callista agreed, lowering her voice as the waitress passed. "The guy who broke into my apartment...he got arrested, and for what? A rock? It doesn't make any sense. And the way he was talking - it was like he _knew_ my work schedule. Jonah's too. Like he'd been watching us, waiting for us both to be out."

"Ugh." Beatrice stuck out her tongue. "Creepy."

"I suppose it'd be too much of a coincidence if something had happened to _you_ today." Nicholas half-teased, and didn't notice when Beatrice busied herself with the dessert menu. "No break ins to report to us, Bee?"

Beatrice laughed his comment off.

"They have cheesecake here?" she exclaimed instead. "Neato! Anyway, Cal, if you want to stay with me for a while...it's not much, though maybe it would be easier to just go back to your mom's place..."

"I'll think about it." Callista said, quickly. "I still need to think about work..."

"Nick?" Beatrice asked. "Want to take a tour to fabulous Village Bridge? I've only been begging you to visit since _forever_."

Nicholas gave a half-smile. "I'll think about it." he echoed, demurely.

"So lame!" Beatrice threw up her hands. "You two are impossible. Both had your lives endangered and you're content to stay where you are."

"How dramatic." Nicholas teased, laughing when Beatrice stuck her tongue out at him.

Sobering, he asked, "So...what do you think I should do? About the book, I mean."

Callista shrugged. "Read it?" she suggested.

"There we go." Beatrice snapped her fingers. "Get a one up on this guy who tried to rob you, give the book back to the library, carry on with your day."

At Nicholas' blank look, she continued, "Well, don't ya want to _know_? What someone would risk jail for? Must be one hell of a book." she grabbed it again and flipped through it.

"It's buried in the Wall." she said.

"Sorry?" Nicholas paused as the waitress refilled their water glasses.

"Oh." Beatrice looked up, sheepishly, scratching her forehead. "That's what it says in this passage, sorry. I was reading aloud. 'It's buried in the wall'..." she paused, frowning. "Where have I heard that before? What wall?"

"Um...there's a wall around Lacunosa, in the east." Callista offered. "It's a town not too far from Undella. It's all walled in. There used to be a lot of ghost stories about it, to scare us as kids."

Beatrice was still frowning. "Wall, wall..." she murmured. "The wall..."

"Lacunosa has a lot of legends." Nicholas piped up. "I did a bit of research on it, they have some stone carvings on display there - of some sort of legendary Pokémon; it's not really been confirmed yet or anything."

Callista grinned. "It always seemed a little creepy to me," she admitted. "When I was a kid, we used to sing a song about it. Let's see..."

To Beatrice's surprise, Callista began to clap quietly.

"_Little child behind the wall_," she began in a tuneless rhyme. "_T__ake good care when darkness falls_

"_Should you hesitate or pause_

"_You will meet the monster's jaws_."

Beatrice had frozen in her seat. "...Are you _kidding_?" she asked, visibly upset. "_That's_ the song?"

"Yeah?" Callista looked confused. "Why, what's wrong? Do you know that one?"

Beatrice touched the side of her head, as if bewildered.

"Never heard it before today." she muttered. "Ugh, I need a drink." she flagged the waitress down for a beer; after a confused beat, Callista ordered one too. Nicholas asked for a coffee.

"Are you okay, Bee?" Callista pressed cautiously after the waitress had left. "You said you hit your head...maybe you should go see a doctor?"

Beatrice laughed. "Honestly, Cal, it's nothing. I'm more tired than anything." she busied herself with the book.

"Huh." she said. "Listen to this: 'speculation of the location of the prince's remains includes three popular theories. Undella Greens, the graveyard by the sea; remains found by workers in Twist Mountain (now housed in League archives); and a folktale of a burial within the wall of Lacunosa have all been claimed as their resting places'."

"The two princes?" Callista repeated, bemused. "Wasn't that just a myth, though?"

"Apparently, someone thought differently." Nicholas interjected; after a beat, he added, "Maybe the robbers were among them?"

"So...then, they were looking to find the bodies of the princes?" Beatrice made a face. "What for?"

"Well, it would be a great archeological discovery - they'd be famous." Nicholas pointed out. "That's if you even _believe_ in the princes existing in the first place. A lot of people think they're just metaphors to tie humans to the legend of Zekrom and Reshiram."

"Besides, if there are only three 'rumoured' locations, I'm sure everyone and their grandma have thoroughly investigated each of them already." Beatrice piped up, flipping idly through pages. "Oh, whoops."

Her flipping had dislodged something from the pages, a piece of thin, near see-through notepaper. It looked like it was full of writing, and hurriedly she stuffed it back in the book.

As they paid for their dinner and pulled on their coats, Beatrice handed back the book to Nicholas.

"Sorry, man!" she chirped. "Maybe he just wanted to steal it because he was a dick?"

Nicholas laughed, despite himself. "That might make the most sense." he said. "He didn't look too much like an archaeologist."

When the three of them returned to the apartment, Alexsei met them at the door, just going outside to smoke - there was a folded piece of paper on the kitchen counter, and as Nicholas approached it his roommate snapped his fingers and said, "Oh! By the way, a guy came to see you earlier."

"What?" Nicholas asked, frowning. "Who was he?"

"Dunno." Alexsei shrugged, flicking his lighter. "Er...it was about twenty minutes ago? He said he was your friend and I said you were out so he said to tell you..." Alexsei furrowed his brow. "I wasn't really listening. But he left that!" he pointed at the paper.

Nicholas shook his head as he unfolded the paper, more amused than anything by his roommate's disregard for taking messages; however, his blood ran cold when he read the note:

'_Nicky,_

_Thanks so much for keeping my book safe! I'll be back to pick it up later. Your friend seems like a nice guy, he let me in and let me take a look around. Love the photos of your sister in your room. How old is she?_

_I'll see you soon - Druddigon just can't wait to see you again. Neither can I._

_-S._'

* * *

**END CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks again, and as always, for reading!

Er, a note about "Fly" - it's a little tricky considering game canon, since even Vullaby, a Pokémon that is a foot tall and is said to be flightless, can learn Fly - I was sort of trying to keep it sort of realistic considering the different sizes. My idea about Fly is that it does give the Pokémon increased strength and speed - so one can fly across the country in no time at all - but comes with all the realistic consequences. For example, Flying in shorts and a t-shirt? Yikes. Expect some discomfort. So yes, Flying's good in a pinch but definitely not the most efficient way. Maybe for energetic eleven year olds...

Anyways, I think that's all I wanted to talk about for this chapter. If you have any questions or if I didn't make something clear, please feel free to ask me! Thank you!


	3. Concerning Corruption and Concussions

The Nacrene police station was crowded despite the relatively late evening hour. Standing in the middle of it all, clutching Sebastian's note in his hand, Nicholas nearly lost his nerve. After he had realized who the note was from (and it didn't take a genius!), a sense of paranoia and great dread washing over him, Nicholas had interrogated Alexsei who was, predictably, unhelpful.

"Alexsei - " Nicholas had started but his roommate was already outside, lighting his cigarette. Nicholas had followed him, heart in his throat, leaving a bewildered Callista and Beatrice inside - he caught up with him as Alexsei took a drag from his cigarette. "This 'friend' of mine...you let him in my room?"

"Yeah, he said you had a book he lent you? I said it was probably in your room in that huge stack you have, but he said he didn't find it. Why?"

"What...what else did he say?" Nicholas had felt so paranoid, looking around them as they talked. Alexsei usually smoked on the stairs that led up to their loft and Nicholas had a good view of the street and the people milling about - every passing pedestrian had made him jump. How did Sebastian know where he lived? When was he coming back? What was he going to do?

Alexsei had merely shrugged, much to Nicholas' frustration.

"He was chatty as fuck. Kept asking me who I was, if I'd known you long...I dunno, I stopped answering him after awhile and then when I looked up he'd gone. What's the big deal?"

"I could strangle you!" Nicholas had finally exclaimed, half-serious, and Alexsei had pointed at him with the two fingers that held his cigarette.

"I'd like to see you try." he'd replied, darkly. Then, seeing that Nicholas really did look shaken, he'd ventured, "What's going on?"

Nicholas hadn't explained much to Alexsei; his head had been spinning, all sorts of awful scenarios rushing through his head. Sebastian had been in his room...how much personal information had he gathered? What if he found out where his parents lived? Where his sister went to school? Just how crazy _was_ he? Sure, he had been a little extreme in his ideas, and obviously committed enough to stage a break-in...but was he capable of more?

Once filled in, Callista had agreed to accompany him to the station, while Beatrice had remained at the apartment, citing the plausible possibility that, with Alexsei's self-imposed carelessness, he was likely to let _other_ suspicious people in without even a second thought. Nicholas would have worried for her safety more if not for Mandy, who Nicholas was confident could take out a man's jugular if the situation called for it.

That was what led Nicholas to be standing in the police station, Tarsi in tow, Callista and Daisy hesitantly tailing him, as an officer approached them.

"Can I help you?" he asked them.

"I have something to report, related to the robbery at the library today." Nicholas responded, and the officer raised surprised eyebrows.

"Of course. Come with me." he glanced at Callista and she instantly backed up, hovering near the door.

"I'll, er...wait here." she told Nicholas, putting a hand on Daisy's head.

The officer, who introduced himself as Officer Denton, led him to his desk near the back, sat him down, and got him a glass of water. The officer's Stoutland snuffled warily at Nicholas' shoes before settling back down onto its stomach.

To Officer Denton's credit, he was incredibly patient through Nicholas' disjointed explanation, from the robbery to Sebastian's cryptic words, and the subsequent escalation to the casual threat in the note. Nicholas attributed his rambling to both nervousness and guilt - as he talked, he wondered if he shouldn't tell Officer Denton about the book, the real reason Sebastian was after him. He had left it out of his story - or, rather, explained away the note's reference to it as a mistake. After all, Nicholas was writing a research paper: Sebastian's accusations of having a certain book could just be an empty-handed criminal clutching at straws.

Nicholas was weirdly reluctant to tell Officer Denton about the book - however, at the end of his explanation, Nicholas paused, ready to tack on, "Well, there is something else...", willing to come clean, but Officer Denton interpreted his silence as the end of his story and scribbled something down on his notepad.

"Alright, Nicholas. Our police Commissioner is taking a special interest in this case. If you don't mind, I'd like to hand over this note to him personally - he's just finishing up a meeting. Can you wait here a moment?"

"Uh...sure." Nicholas fidgeted in his chair, and Officer Denton left him there, assuring he'd be right back.

Okay, so he'd tell the _Commissioner_. And then it would be off his chest, he'd turn the book over to police custody, and it would no longer be his problem anymore. Let Sebastian leave threatening notes for the _police_. Better to wash his hands of this mess now.

In his arms, Tarsi was fussing with the strips of blanket that he had wrapped around himself, and Nicholas helped fix it, jiggling his leg up and down in anxiety.

Presently the officer returned, followed by a tall, sandy-haired man - he looked a little young to be a Commissioner, probably in his early thirties, his hair neatly combed but thinning a little, and steely grey eyes, wearing a smart, dark grey suit. He was followed by a grumbling, growling Klang. Nicholas rose to his feet, smoothing down the front of his shirt in nervousness.

"Nicholas, this is Commissioner Whitehall." Officer Denton stood aside as the Commissioner extended his hand. Nicholas' stomach did a weird twinge as he shifted Tarsi fully into the crook of one elbow, taking the man's hand.

"Good to meet you." the Commissioner's voice was flat, tinny, and Nicholas nearly choked as he looked straight into the older man's eyes.

The eyes, the voice...the Commissioner's face was wholly unrecognizable, but Nicholas had no doubt that this was the man behind the mask, the one with the Braviary and Heatmor who Sebastian had deferred to in the library. Nicholas felt frozen, like he couldn't move. On a reflex, he made to jerk his hand back, but Whitehall's grip was iron-tight, and he held on for a few seconds longer than necessary, keeping steady eye-contact. Nicholas could practically feel his heart hammering behind his ribs.

"Officer Denton told me about your situation...you've been through a lot today." Whitehall finally released his hand, slipping his free one into his trouser pocket.

"Y-yeah." Nicholas couldn't help the stammer that escaped. "I - wh - it's been a weird day."

"No doubt." the look in the Commissioner's eyes was almost smug as he glanced, briefly, at Sebastian's note, which Officer Denton had handed to him.

Nicholas, by this time, was casting frantic looks back at Callista, who didn't seem to register his panic, judging by the idle way she was playing with Daisy, sitting on one of the chairs near the front door.

Whitehall must certainly recognize Nicholas, that much was certain - but did he know that Nicholas recognized _him_? It was hard to tell; the Commissioner's facial expressions were difficult to interpret, but Nicholas could feel the confidence radiating off him, which did nothing to quell his nerves.

"Now, Nicholas...Evergreen, was it?" Whitehall beckoned him closer. "I have some questions - do you mind if we step into my office?"

Yes, Nicholas minded very much. An enclosed space with a man who was in cahoots with the guy who was stalking him? Just what he wanted!

Looking nervously between the two men, Nicholas tried lamely, "Just let me tell my friend...she's waiting for me..." In his arms, Tarsi had begun to fuss, as if sensing his owner's distress, and on instinct Nicholas squeezed him tighter.

"It will only take a moment." Whitehall soothed, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, and Nicholas was firmly steered past Officer Denton (who was watching the exchange with a bit of puzzlement), towards the back of the station.

Whitehall greeted everyone they passed cordially - briefly, they passed the holding area, and the Commissioner purposely slowed their pace so Nicholas could get a good look at the empty cells.

"Slow night tonight." Whitehall remarked, and the message was clear. Nicholas worried his lower lip between his teeth.

The Commissioner's office was at the end of the hallway, all frosted glass and dark wood. Walking towards it was a death sentence.

"Do you mind if I just quickly go to the bathroom?" Nicholas blurted out weakly, one last feeble attempt, but Whitehall merely held open the office door for him, face placid.

Inside, the office was sparse - a desk, computer, bookshelf, and chair were all that furnished it. The window behind the desk had the blinds securely closed.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Whitehall slammed the door as he spoke, making Nicholas jump.

"No, thank you." Nicholas replied, watching warily as the Commissioner circled him, making his way to the desk.

Leaning against it, giving him a steady look, Commissioner Whitehall held up the note Nicholas had given Officer Denton.

"So...where's this book, then?" he asked, waving it around. At Nicholas' silence he chuckled.

"You can tell me," he mocked. "The police are only here to _serve_ you."

"I don't have it." Nicholas tried stonily, but Whitehall laughed again, derisive.

"Liar." he accused, baldly, and Nicholas was taken aback. Tarsi made a noise in his arms and Nicholas quieted him. Whitehall cocked his head.

"Well? My colleague swears up and down that you have it, and he has been reliable thus far."

"Your colleague also seemed a little _crazy_." Nicholas shot back without thinking. The rumble of the Commissioner's Klang from behind him made him flinch.

"He is a little overzealous." Whitehall admitted thoughtfully, as if it had just occurred to him. "But he's done his research. Now." he drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk.

"You're a smart boy. You have a future. You have more things on your mind than an old book. So here are your choices. You hand over the book you took, for police examination. You go home. You receive no more unexepcted visitors.

"Or," Whitehall shrugged his shoulders. "Play dumb. You're rather awful at it, but you could keep it up if you like. But the visits wouldn't stop. And they wouldn't be just to you."

Whitehall leaned forward and under any other circumstance his smile could be classified as kindly.

"How is your sister enjoying her time in Driftveil, hm?"

"It's at my house." Nicholas snapped, in fear. "I didn't bring it with me."

Whitehall chuckled.

"Then?" he prompted. "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

When Callista saw the two of them approaching, she rose to her feet with a smile, but her expression quickly dropped to one of bewilderment, no doubt after seeing Nicholas' face - he imagined it was a combination of total panic and total dread.

"Callista," he choked out. "This is Commissioner Whitehall. He's - _accompanying_ me back home to get a piece of evidence."

"Wh - okay." Callista said hesitantly, squinting at him like she was expecting him to send her a sign.

Nicholas didn't know what she was expecting.

Since the loft was only a few blocks from the police station, they walked - Whitehall had offered up his car, but Nicholas wouldn't have been able to stand being in a vehicle with him anyways. Callista had inherited some of Nicholas' tenseness by proxy, probably thanks to Daisy, who was circling dizzily around her owner, nervous and jittery. Callista spent most of the walk attempting to calm her.

Whitehall had left his Klang behind at the station, but his Pokéballs were at his side, and Nicholas had no doubt the threat of force was still there.

When they got back to the apartment, Alexsei had two heads of broccoli on a plate and was taking pictures of them - Beatrice was watching the news, Mandy nesting on her stomach, and when they came in she sat up quickly, anxiously.

"So?" she urged, though she fell silent when she noticed the extra person entering the apartment.

Alexsei looked up too, cross-legged on the floor, giving the Commissioner an ambiguous stare.

"Bee." Nicholas said slowly, crouching to put Tarsi on the living room floor - the Swadloon rolled over to Alexsei, who briefly reached out to pat him on the head. "Can you go get the book in my bag? I - the police need it for evidence."

"Sure." Beatrice said slowly, rising and crossing the living room into Nicholas' bedroom. A tense silence followed, before Alexsei rolled his head back.

"You a cop?" he asked Whitehall, and Nicholas winced.

"I am." Whitehall replied, looking amused. Alexsei pursed his lips.

"Did you ever get past that bribery scandal last month?" he asked with saccharine politeness.

"Alexsei, shut up." Nicholas gasped, and the Commissioner laughed.

"Your roommate is aware of his current events." he commented in a patronizing voice, and Alexsei looked rather affronted.

Thankfully, Beatrice returned before Alexsei could get Nicholas in even _more_ trouble; Whitehall held out his hand as she offered the book to him.

"Well, I won't take up any more of your time." Again, that infuriatingly mocking hand on Nicholas' shoulder; he cringed as the Commissioner squeezed hard enough to be painful. "Thank you for your endless cooperation, Mr. Evergreen. I do apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you."

"Not a problem." Nicholas managed to say, tightly, and with another sardonic goodbye, Commissioner Whitehall left.

He had barely closed the door when Alexei snapped, "Who the _fuck_ was _that_ asshole?"

"Seriously, bud." Beatrice echoed the sentiment. "What happened? You told them about the book?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Nicholas filled them in - on recognizing Whitehall from the library, to the Commissioner's not-so-subtle threats towards him if he didn't hand over the book. By the end, Beatrice looked furious, Daisy was even more agitated, and Alexsei was scoffing.

"Cops, man." he said disparagingly. "They're all pigs."

"Great generalization there, Al." Beatrice snorted, though her dark brows were knitted over her eyes. "But shit, Nick, I'm sorry. Is there anything we can do? Like report him or something?"

"To who?" Nicholas asked. "The police?"

"Uh. Good point." Beatrice thought for a minute - Tarsi, who had made it to the couch, scootedinto her lap; Mandy eyed him disdainfully as her owner scratched his head. "Well, at least it's out of your hands, right? No more creepy visits from a criminal. Whatever that book was, it's the Commissioner's problem now."

"I guess." Nicholas couldn't help feeling disappointed. All in all, he had been looking forward to reading more of the book, trying to decode the immense importance it must have possessed. Maybe it was the scholar in him.

"I just wish I had had a chance to read all of it. It looked really interesting."

Beatrice and Alexsei exchanged unreadable looks, and Nicholas was about to ask them _when_ they got so chummy when Beatrice said, "Actually...you might still be able to read it."

"What?" Nicholas asked, and Beatrice gestured at Alexsei, who was flipping through his camera.

"Here." the artist turned the camera's display towards him and Nicholas wrinkled his nose.

"That's broccoli, Alex."

"Whoops." Alexsei pressed a button. "'Kay, here."

It was a picture of the book's cover. Nicholas moved to the next picture - a picture of the first page. And then a picture of the second page, and the third...

"Did you...take a picture of _every page_ in the book?" he asked, realization dawning on him. Beatrice shrugged.

"We figured, if your douchebag stalker came back, and we couldn't fight him off - "

"Which I could." Alexsei interjected.

" - or if he managed to _take_ it somehow," Beatrice continued, glaring at him, "you could still have a copy. It's not like the book was very big, it didn't take that long to photograph.

"And..." slyly, she dug a piece of folded paper out of the front of her shirt. "I took this, too!"

It was the thin paper full of symbols that had fallen out of the crease of the book during dinner.

"It looks like a sort of decoder." Callista said thoughtfully as she took it from Beatrice to examine it.

"I hope those sons of bitches need that." Beatrice said, smugly. Nicholas laughed at her.

"This is great!" he enthused. "Really, really brilliant! Now we have the book after all!"

"Well," Beatrice said, modestly, "It was Alexsei's idea, too."

Alexsei snorted, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

There was silence for a moment as Nicholas attempted to process what had happened. Sure, one would assume Sebastian wouldn't come back...but Nicholas wasn't so sure. Sebastian had already proved himself to be a little weird, and he had powerful friends - what if he came back to gloat, secure in the knowledge that Nicholas was too cowed by Commissioner Whitehall to do much about it.

"I was thinking," he said, turning to Beatrice, who was playing with Tarsi. "Maybe I _will_ take you up on that offer to visit you."

"My!" Beatrice pressed a hand to her face in mock excitement. "And it only took a corrupt cop for you to do so!"

Nicholas scowled. "Well, excuse me if I no longer want to stay here." he pointed out, and Beatrice waved him off.

"I was kidding! Of course. You're more than welcome to come visit. Cal?" Beatrice turned eyes to her friend, who looked lost in thought. "What about - what's that?"

Callista looked up from the paper Beatrice had stolen from the book. "Huh? What's what?"

Beatrice pointed and Callista looked down at the rock in her hand - she hadn't even realized that she'd taken it out of her sweater pocket and was clenching and unclenching her fist around it in distracted rhythm.

"Sorry." Absently, Callista tucked it away again, and asked, "What were we talking about?"

It was decided pretty quickly that they'd spend the night at Callista's place - just being in his living room made Nicholas antsy, and he'd checked out the window at least every ten minutes since he'd been there. At least _Callista's_ home invasion had ended with an arrest.

"We can shove a fucking desk in front of the door or something." Beatrice suggested, who was just as pleased with the idea.

In the morning, they were going to head north, up to Village Bridge - Beatrice was going to call the elderly couple she rented from, to see if they or one of their children could check in on the Combee until she could make it back. Callista was going to call into work too, citing her own home invasion as a plea for some time off...if she wasn't fired for taking a day long lunch break (hardly her fault - mostly)!

Nicholas set to packing a bag - there was a bus that took them through Pinwheel, across Skyarrow Bridge, and over to Castelia. It could get pretty cramped, so that meant all Pokémon had to be in their Pokéballs for the duration of the ride. He recalled Tarsi apologetically, who didn't seem too bothered.

When he emerged from his room with his duffel packed Alexsei, who had remained cross-legged on the floor throughout everything, was arranging the broccoli on the plate again.

"Alexsei," Nicholas began, if not a little impatiently. "I appreciate your indifference, _as always_, but...if you've got anywhere else to go for the night, you should go there!"

"Fuck that." said Alexsei. "I'm not going anywhere. I've got shit to work on."

"Okay." Nicholas said slowly. "But I don't know where Sebastian is now, so maybe - "

"Yeah, I _get_ it." Alexsei cut him off. "But I'm not leaving. If your stalker comes back, Vanya will stick him so hard with a Poison Barb he'll leave here in a body bag."

Vanya was Alexsei's first Pokémon - as a Venipede, Vanya had poisoned Alexsei while he was sketching in Pinwheel Forest, and had then followed the human to the hospital in what Alexsei thought had been a brief bout of remorse.

That had been four years ago, and the now-Whirlipede showed no signs of taking off. Alexsei admitted he had never formally caught Vanya in a Pokéball - however, Nicholas had a feeling Vanya was quite beyond leaving.

Tanya, his other Venipede, had shown up about three years ago, randomly one morning - Alexsei had found her sleeping on top of his shoes, a habit she kept to this day. He assumed she and Vanya were related and had never questioned the whole thing at all.

Nicholas sometimes wondered how Alexsei could possibly still be alive.

Despite Alexsei's bravado (Callista even offered to let him stay at her apartment for the night, to no avail), Nicholas ended up fretting so much that Alexsei eventually told him, "Well, at least with you gone I can finally smoke in the living room."

"Don't!" Nicholas exclaimed in terror. "My stuff's still here!"

Alexsei shrugged, busy downloading the pictures of the pages from his camera onto a USB stick for Beatrice.

As he walked them to the door, however, the artist paused, reached over for his notebook, tore off a scrap of paper and scribbled something down.

"Here," he said, pressing it into Nicholas' hands. "My friend lives in Castelia. He, er...he's pretty helpful when you're in a pinch. If you need help, just tell him I sent you."

Sketchy.

"Thanks." Nicholas said gratefully, nonetheless. "Thanks, Alexsei. Be careful, okay? I mean it."

Alexsei gruffly waved them out the door.

"I can take care of myself." he said.

Nicholas had no doubt.

* * *

As they boarded the bus, Beatrice's nose started bleeding.

"Oi!" Beatrice clapped a palm over her nose and shoved herself into the nearest seat.

"D'you have a tissue?" she asked the disgruntled man across the aisle from her, who fished one out for her.

Dotting her nostrils carefully, Beatrice made a face at Callista, who slid into the seat beside her.

"Okay?" she laughed. Beatrice scowled.

"I _never_ get nosebleeds." she announced.

"Obviously." Callista remarked, earning her a one-handed shove.

And that was the thing, Beatrice thought to herself as the bus sped past the thick trees of Pinwheel. She _never_ got nosebleeds, not ever, unless you counted the time as a kid she picked her nose so hard it bled, or the time she was whacked in the face with a soccer ball. And ordinarily, hey, first time for everything, right, but with this, the fall off her bike, and the "encounter" (it sounded less crazy if she called it that) still swimming in her head, she was starting to get a little concerned about her health - both physical _and_ mental.

And, to top it all off, that rhyme that Callista had recited at dinner - when Beatrice had heard it, it felt like a punch in the stomach. She had told the truth; she had _never_ heard it before today, not until it had been sung at her by two twin girls under the paws of a great, legendary Pokémon, and then again by her best friend. How had it gone again? Beatrice wanted to ask Callista but she knew there was no way she could casually slip it into a conversation without raising a few questions.

Settling back in her seat, Beatrice kept her head tilted up, resolutely keeping it turned from the window, and tried to figure out what everything _meant_.

So what was the _point_? If the Entei was just a hallucination, brought on by a knock to the head, how could she have heard it sing a song she didn't know? Unless it was some stupid "subconscious" shit, in which case she officially had the worst subconscious ever. But hey, weirder things have happened, right? It certainly couldn't get worse from here.

It got worse. Hopping off the bus, which dropped them off at the terminal by Castelia Docks, Beatrice was at least 99% sure the fall off her bike had fucked up her brain.

It was the only way to explain _why_ Entei was standing there, right smack in the middle of the terminal while people milled around it, unaffected and looking right through it.

"Ah, shit." Beatrice said, squinting. It was official, she thought as she watched a man pass right under Entei's chin, completely unruffled - she was seeing things.

As Callista descended the bus after her, bag in hand, Beatrice grabbed her by the arm and hissed in a strained voice, "Cal, _please_ tell me you see that!"

"Huh?" her friend's eyes drifted over the expanse of terminal, sliding completely - and damningly - past the legendary Pokémon. "What happened?"

"Ah, shit." Beatrice repeated, causing Callista to frown.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked for the umpteenth time, and Beatrice waved her away with a bit of impatience. The Entei was pacing now, its shaggy head nodding rhythmically off in the direction of Prime Pier, a section of the docks where mainly large, business boats moored. Though it was late at night, one of them was loading up, getting ready - Beatrice assumed they had an early departure.

Beatrice wondered if it would be considered too mental to flip off a hallucination.

Probably.

"C'mon, let's go home, I'm exhausted." she announced, pointedly swiveling around, back to the Entei, and helping Nicholas, who was retrieving his duffel from beneath the bus.

When Callista unlocked the door with nervous fingers, and they had all ascertained that no, there were no more strange men sitting in her bedroom, Beatrice barely paused to exclaim dismay over the state of Callista's floorboards, or, "Why the fuck is my bat lying in the middle of the living room?" - she merely brushed her teeth, helped Nicholas drag the couch over in front of the door, checked to make sure the windows were locked, sincerely hoped that the Jonah kid who was temporarily living there wasn't coming back that night (he'd left a note, but still...) and collapsed in her bed (temporarily Jonah's) without even agonizing over the fact that it didn't smell like her anymore. It smelled like boy cologne, and bad eating choices (she was pretty sure she was lying on a slice of pizza, that dick. They would have words).

Callista stopped by once more to poke her head into the room and say, hestitantly, "I think you may have a head injury."

"Fuck this shit." Beatrice vaguely remembered muttering, acridly, into her pillow, and then she had fallen asleep.

* * *

**END CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

Author's Note: Another chapter up! (crazy!) I'm not very happy with this one, so I'll probably be tweaking it a lot, so sorry about that. Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated!


	4. Concerning Callista and her Stupid Rock

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay! School is harshing my mellow.

* * *

The morning made everything better, insecurities and all. Callista woke up, assured that the couch _did_ hold, and there had been no more home invasions; then she had a shower, got dressed, and made breakfast while she waited for everyone to get up. Daisy followed her quietly, purring, and Callista made sure to make an extra piece of buttered toast - Daisy's favourite.

She left a voicemail on her boss' phone, briefly explaining why she hadn't come back after lunch yesterday - she figured she had enough vacation hours from her wasted summer to maybe get away without being fired.

Nicholas woke up when Tarsi nibbled a hole through his shirt, curled up on the apartment couch with an old blanket over him. Swatting Tarsi gently away, he sat up, lingering anger over Whitehall's intimidation quelled by the rather mean-spirited satisfaction that neither Whitehall nor Sebastian had _all_ the pieces - the sheet with all the symbols lay on the living room table, where Callista had left it last night.

Tarsi had spun String Shot around himself and was amusing himself by gnawing it off again - a sign he was hungry. Nicholas dazedly joined Beatrice in the kitchen, not really managing any conversation until he'd made a cup of coffee.

Beatrice woke up last, thankfully with only the dull remnants of a headache, but even more thankfully with _no_ legendary Pokémon in sight.

Getting up, she wandered briefly into the bathroom for some pills for her headache, washing them down with water cupped in her palm, and she paused to examine herself in the mirror.

She looked okay, if not a little pale, and her head hadn't bruised or anything - unless you counted the little nick she'd gotten from Mandy, but that was just standard fare...oh, shit.

Sprinting back to her room, she fumbled through her bag to find Mandy's Pokéball - she had fallen asleep before she had remembered to let her Pokémon out after the bus ride!

Standing as close to the doorway as possible, Beatrice gritted her teeth and lobbed Mandy's Pokéball into the room before turning and running in the opposite direction.

Her Mandibuzz was released in a burst of feathers (she molted sporadically when she was stressed), shrieking and irate. She was promised an hour or two in the Pokéball, not the whole night! She gave chase after her owner, knocking many of her possessions over in the process.

Beatrice sprinted down the hall, skidding across the linoleum and throwing open the window under the startled stares of her two friends. Mandy came streaking after her, neck taut, beak at the ready to peck some sense into her human. Beatrice threw herself in front of the open window.

"_I'M PRETTY SURE WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS_!" she yelled as her Pokémon approached - then she ducked, Mandy tumbling straight past her and out the window, which Beatrice quickly shut behind her.

Mandy spun circles in the air outside, looking more relieved to be able to stretch her wings than determined to get back inside.

"She'll calm down." Beatrice explained to her concerned friends, rubbing her temple. "Then hopefully she won't bite. Hard."

As Beatrice made herself some tea, Callista delicately spread the bus schedule out over one knee.

"Well, there's a bus that goes to Driftveil," she offered to her friends, pointing. "...leaves in an hour, we'd get there by mid-afternoon."

"Yo, I have an idea." Beatrice piped up, feeding Daisy a chunk of her toast. "We could hike it up north. You know. On foot. Like real adventurers."

There was a silence.

"I'm waiting for you to tell me you're joking." Nicholas spoke up, with a nervous laugh.

"Hey, you said you've never been camping or hiking or anything, right?" Beatrice countered. "And none of us ever took the League Challenge so we never traveled 'round much, right? They say the best way to experience Unova is on foot. Or, like, by bike. Whichever you prefer."

Nicholas didn't look convinced, and Beatrice didn't really blame him - the southerner was what you could call a "city boy", if the term didn't sound like a taunt. Beatrice had at least gone on a few camping trips with her family when she was younger...hell, even _Callista_ had been in a tent once or twice in her life.

As a closing argument, Beatrice spread her hands placatingly and suggested, "If your crazy-ass stalker somehow come back for you, how hard would it be to find you if we were on the road?"

Fear of Sebastian (barely) overcame fear of wet, soggy campgrounds, and Nicholas very reluctantly caved.

"I think the chick downstairs has a tent." Beatrice said, confident. "She's got a crush on you, I think, Nick, so you should go ask her if we can use it for a month or so."

"A month!" Nicholas repeated with horror (though whether it was over the thought of spending more than a day outside in a tent, or talking to the girl downstairs, who had demonstrated herself the few times Nicholas had been over as a rather abrasive, giggling mess).

"Okay, three weeks." Beatrice rephrased.

Callista frowned.

"I'm just going to tell you right now, I don't think you thought this through." she declared.

"I don't need your rationality right now." Beatrice held up a hand. "Listen. _You_ survived a home invasion. _Nick_ survived a hostage situation and a corrupt cop. I know a girl from elementary who left home at ten and she's traveled half the world, won a Contest in Hoenn, and the Pokémon she's caught are _fucking_ terrifying! Like, I'm sorry, I don't care if your Gyrados "adores" you and you called her 'Chee-chee', if she rolls over on accident, it's _game over_, man. You're _dead_. Also, side note, who names a Gyrados CHEE-CHEE? Name her Crusher or something. Take advantage of that shit."

"Sorry," Nicholas said dryly. "What was the point of this?"

"_The point_," Beatrice glared, "Is that I'm in my twenties and the most exciting thing to happen to me is last week I thought someone stole my bike but I had just left it _behind_ my building instead of in _front_ of it and forgot because I was drunk. Meanwhile some kid with a Gyrados named Chee-chee is scaling a fucking mountain in Sinnoh. Look, I'm not a creep, okay?" she added at Callista's dubious look. "I just follow her blog.

"Oh, c'mon!" she whined when neither of them moved. "OK, look. Compromise. We rough it 'til Driftveil...and if you're sick of it by then, we stop by, say hi to your sister, and then take the train the rest of the way, or you can go back to work at the library or whatever. Easy peasy. Right?"

"Til Driftveil?" Callista repeated, and Beatrice held up her pinkie finger.

"'Til Driftveil." she affirmed, and they pinkie-swore on it.

Nicholas felt a little better - at least until Beatrice _still_ made him go downstairs to inquire about the tent.

When he got back, with both the tent _and_ the downstair's neighbour's Xtransceiver number, Beatrice laughed so hard so looked like she might choke - so Nicholas went to take a shower instead of flipping her off like he had planned. Mandy, who had been let back in during his absence, was showing her displeasure towards her owner by sulking on the edge of the couch, making sure to use her claws as much as possible.

"We can cover that up with a doily or something." Beatrice said, with little confidence.

Callista cleaned up after breakfast and Beatrice disappeared into her room to pack, emerging only once with an upset expression to complain about, "who the fuck are you letting rent my _room_, Cal? Don't give him his damage deposit back!"

Callista made herself a cup of tea and curled up at the foot of the couch, scratching Daisy's belly as she snoozed on one of the cushions, chubby legs twitching in sleep. Without thinking, she withdrew the rock again from her pocket, smoothing her thumb over the ridges. She repeated this absently until her thumb was tingling. Her arm felt weird, like she had just hit her funny bone. She stopped scratching in favour of cupping the rock in both hands.

What was so special about it? Why did she bring it all the way to Nacrene and then all the way back instead of leaving it at home, or tossing it off Skyarrow Bridge? What was it about this rock that had people doing strange things?

Her thumbs were tingling again, and Daisy was snuffling in her sleep, anxiously, as if dreaming. Callista looked down at herself, and stifled an exclamation - her hand was blue. Not stained...it was more like a lightbulb within her had been turned on, and now the light was coming out of her in a soft pulsing glow. She could see the veins under her palm illuminated with terrifying clarity and, frightened, she scrambled to her feet, wiping her hand against the front of her shirt as if that would get rid of it.

By the front entrance, something metallic fell to the floor with a '_thunk_'. At the same time, Daisy began to whimper. Turning to her Pokémon, Callista saw her Munna had woken up, looking agitated, with her beady eyes fixated on her owner's hand.

Beatrice's keys came sliding across the floor towards her, as if attracted to a powerful magnet. In shock, she dropped the rock and the keys shot to them. Mandy, who had refused to follow her owner into her room, was making weird, avian hissing noises, feathers ruffled, neck scrunched down like she was protecting herself.

She was going crazy, Callista decided, as she stared at her hand - the pulsating blue light was almost sickening, now, and it seemed almost as if her veins were pulsating in time...and her bones, and her skin. She was seized with the sudden delirious thought that if she didn't stop this soon she'd explode from the inside out. Panicked, she threw herself down the hallway that led to her bedroom, bleating, "Bee?" in a nervous voice. Squealing, panicked, Daisy followed.

As she passed, the metal letters on her door that spelled out her name trembled and rattled.

She reached Beatrice's door just as Beatrice did, and the two girls collided - without thinking, Callista reached out her blue hand to steady herself on Beatrice's shoulder, and the other girl jumped with a yelp.

"Ouch, Cal, you shocked me!" she exclaimed with no heat; then, "Shit, you're white as a sheet, are you okay?"

Trembling, Callista looked at her hand, still clasping Beatrice's shoulder; perfectly normal, no blue glow or throbbing veins to be seen.

"I'm - yeah, I'm fine." she managed shakily. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Never better." Looking wary, Beatrice reached up to grab her arm. "Bit of a headache, though. You gonna faint, or...?"

But Callista was too busy gaping at Beatrice's hands. The owner of a bird Pokémon, Beatrice's hands had, since high school, never been without a few bites, scrapes, and cuts. Some had simply scabbed and healed over but some, especially from when Mandy was still an untrained Vullaby, had left scars that (though they had faded over the years) still riddled Beatrice's hands with white marks and puckered skin. Most noticeable was the scar above her left eyebrow from training Mandy - Beatrice could literally touch her eyebrow and turn her Pokémon into a shuffling, crowing mess of guilt.

(She only used it for special occasions)

All that was gone now. Right in front of Callista's eyes, the hand holding her arm was unmarred, knuckles void of dark scabs; the skin above her eyebrow looked perfectly healed.

"Your hand." she said faintly, still bordering that fine edge of puking, and Beatrice frowned.

"Huh? Wh - yikes!" she let go of Callista like she'd been burned, holding up both hands in front of her, eyes wide.

"There is some spooky shit going on around here." she said finally, staring at her knuckles like she'd seen a ghost; Callista would have agreed if she hadn't felt like she was going to throw up. That sickening, pulsing feel was still there, thrumming in her ribs, and she felt nauseous, like she'd been exposed to some sort of toxic radiation.

Beatrice looked about as freaked out as Callista felt.

"_Oh_ man, you can't be crazy too!" she whined, like a little girl. Callista was about to ask her what she meant but Nicholas appeared in the hallway, hair wet from the shower, holding Beatrice's keys, still attached to the rock and what looked like the whole little box of paper clips that sat on the desk neither of the girls used for studying.

"Your rock's a magnet." he pointed out helpfully.

"Aw man, I _love_ magnets." Beatrice piped up, just as helpfully.

Callista excused herself to the bathroom.

"What's going on?" Beatrice asked, unusually worried, and Nicholas shrugged.

"I don't even know anymore."

* * *

They left the apartment around noon, with the intention of staying the next two nights in Nimbasa - Callista wanted to see the amusement park and Beatrice was hoping to catch a baseball game for sheer nostalgia purposes. Aside from a bit of nausea, Callista was feeling okay - she had purposefully left the rock on her desk when she packed her things, and meant to leave it behind as a sort of purposeful reminder that she shouldn't be sticking her nose into potentially dangerous things. She got as far as the kitchen before she was hurrying back to the her bedroom, using the sleeve of her sweater to scoop it up and bury it shamefully at the bottom of her backpack - she wasn't touching it again!

Beatrice hadn't pressed about the earlier event, not in front of Nicholas (which Callista was grateful for), but every so often Callista noticed her friend looking at her hands with quizzical wonderment - Mandy, perhaps sensing her owner's joy and wanting to spoil it, had pecked her on the left knuckle to draw blood, leaving her owner cursing.

Nicholas had been pretty quiet - Callista wasn't sure if it was because he didn't appreciate Beatrice using the neighbour's crush to their advantage (and at his expense!)), or if he was merely thinking as hard as _she_ was.

When Nicholas was in the bathroom Beatrice, who was lying on the couch, looked over at her.

"So...you going to tell me about your freaky deaky healing magic, or what?" she asked.

"...I'm not sure I'm going to sound sane if I do." Callista admitted, and to her surprise Beatrice nodded.

"Okay, I get that, seriously. Has this - " she held up her hands, "happened often?"

"First time." Callista confirmed, miserably.

They heard the toilet flush and, hurriedly, Beatrice said:

"Listen. Tonight, when we get a chance. I'll tell you something freaky if you tell me _your_ freaky thing. Deal?"

"I guess." Callista replied reluctantly, and their conversation stopped when Nicholas returned to the living room.

When they started off, Callista was optimistic. Nimbasa wasn't too far away from Castelia, and, really, all of Unova's cities were adequately spaced from each other, the routes dotted with small towns along the way.

Well, she _was_ okay with it until they hit the sandstorm on Route 4.

"Okay, to be fair, the whole trip isn't going to be like this!" Beatrice yelled over the wind as they trudged forward into the desert separating them from Nimbasa. Callista missed her shout because she was too busy wrapping a scarf around her face to keep out the sand. In the end, they had to recall their Pokémon (though if it had been up to Mandy, she would have attempted to keep flying through the storm 'til she collapsed).

If Beatrice had ever felt an appropriate time for the use of the phrase, "mutiny among the ranks" in her life, this was it. She thought camping was fucking awesome, and it wasn't helping her cause that they had started their journey in the middle of a _sandstorm_.

Nicholas' face was covered by his sleeve, but she could see from here how unhappy he looked; and Callista had looked pale and nauseous since this morning. Beatrice caught her staring into space, as if constantly preoccupied.

And really, the whole thing was fucking fishy, if you asked Beatrice (not that anybody _had_). All these things happening to them at once...now there was weird magic-healing shit going on and Beatrice was seeing things, which did not bode well for her mental health in the long run.

All of a sudden, a large face of rock loomed up in front of her vision and Beatrice came up short in surprise.

"Where are we going?" Nicholas yelled, and Beatrice wheeled around, bewildered.

"It's a straight route, I thought we were following the path!" she bellowed back.

"Well, should we turn around?" Callista's voice was muffled and barely audible under her scarf - she had taken her backpack off and was rifling around at the bottom of it.

"D'you have the map?" Beatrice asked Nicholas, who slid off his backpack as well - sand cascaded from his thick hair into his bag.

As Beatrice stood, impatiently, eyes stinging from the storm, her jaw slackened - standing on a nearby dune, totally placid, was another fucking Entei.

"Just what I _fucking_ need right now!" Beatrice exclaimed, and Nicholas looked up from his search.

"What?" he asked. Callista's brow was furrowed. Beatrice laughed, loudly, despite the sand in her mouth.

"Sorry! Talking to myself!" the Entei's eyes almost hurt, they were so sharp; after a moment, it nodded, and padded off over the dune. Almost as if she was responding to some secret signal, Beatrice exclaimed, "Okay, I think I know where we're going, follow me!"

She took a few steps toward the Entei, then looked back; both Callista and Nicholas were staring at her.

"I haven't even shown you the map yet." Nicholas protested, still crouched over his sandy backpack. Beatrice laughed again; she wondered if her friends could sense the hysteria.

"Trust me, okay? I've got a good feeling about this."

"A _good_ _feeling_?" Callista repeated - but she and Nicholas were quick to follow, wading through the sand after Beatrice as she made her way firmly up the dune, feeling woozy.

"Well...a _feeling_, at least." she muttered to herself, slipping a little.

"Bee, what are you _doing_?" Callista was asking behind her, and Beatrice couldn't honestly answer her. In the distance, amidst the howling sandstorm, she thought she could see the shape of Entei, always watching, always solid.

This was insane, she thought. She honestly had no idea where they were going. She could be leading her friends into a sand trap, for all she knew. All she knew was that once they got onto the paved Route path, it would all be okay; that if they hit the Desert Resort they only needed to head east to get to Nimbasa City.

Whenever she looked up (it was hard staring straight into a sandstorm!), the Entei was still there, calm and unruffled despite the weather, but still only sand stretched in front of them.

And really, she was going to give up on the whole thing when a large, rather abandoned construction site loomed up in front of them.

"Well, this was convenient timing." she said, which was swallowed in the storm; nonetheless, Nicholas and Callista saw it about the same time she did (which was what she loved about them - why bother _telling_ people about shit?), and surged forward, leaving her to trail after them, wondering. Entei was nowhere to be seen.

_Okay_, she thought. _So did Entei lead me here...or did I get really fucking lucky and aimlessly follow a hallucination until I stumbled upon a refuge?_

It wasn't really giving her any answers.

The workers within the main building weren't really surprised when three, sandy teenagers burst into their workspace - on the whole, they seemed used to the idea. They mumbled the usual, appropriate apologies; Beatrice set to scraping sand off her tongue, while Callista shook out her scarf and Nicholas ruffled his hair, a shower of sand falling to the floor.

"Yo, you have a map, or something?" Beatrice asked the nearest worker, and as he complied, Callista perused the set of brochures the construction building had set up at the reception.

"Ah." she said, quietly, holding up a brochure. "Nick, look at this."

Nicholas glanced over - she was holding a bright, simple brochure; across its front was a glossy picture of a big white tent in the middle of the desert, in front of a clear blue sky, with a stream of people moving in and out. In blue letters across the top, it read, '_Experience the Miracles_'.

"What?" Nicholas took it from her. "Is it like a circus? In the middle of the desert? That doesn't seem very smart."

Beatrice had looked over from where she was poring over the worker's map.

"It looks like a revival tent," she offered, with a frown. "Dunno, they were popular ages ago. You'd go and there'd be a guy shoutin', gettin' all spiritual, and then a broad would limp up to the stage with an awful disease, and everyone would pray and then miraculously she'd be healed. And everyone would put donations in at the start, so they'd get away with loads at the end. Usually the sick person would be just playing along."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "Yeah...I didn't know they were still popular."

"They're _not_." Beatrice offered. "That's the weird part. Unless it's an ironic sort of thing. We should check it out!"

"You want to go to a revival tent?" Nicholas asked with a bit of disbelief. Beatrice shrugged.

"Why not? When else would you be able to say, 'I went to a revival tent'? Like, legit!"

"I don't know when I'd ever want to be able to say that." Nicholas offered. Beatrice frowned at him.

"Look at you, sucking all the fun out of life!"

Callista laughed. "That's rude! Besides, you're the least spiritual person I know."

"Whoa, that's awkward!" Beatrice feigned offense. "What if I was mega into that sort of shit?"

Callista gave an undignified snort, which drew some amused looks from the workers.

Religion was a tricky thing, depending on what region you were in. The main religion was a pantheon of nature-based, Pokémon-centred deities, whose branches were far flung depending on which legendary Pokemon you placed particular importance on. For example, in Hoenn, religion was often found at two extreme ends of the same spectrum - most people acknowledged and incorporated the duality of Kyogre and Groudon into their spiritual lives. The idea of one Pokemon being "the most important" wasn't very common - unless you subscribed to the Arceus-ian branch. There had been, when the three were very young, an issue of two cults in Hoenn that pursued the separate Pokemon with such fervency that they almost upended the balance of nature...but that was a fluke. For the most part, religion was free-flowing and adaptable. In Johto, for example, you could still find roadside shrines to Ho-Oh or Lugia - in more modern Unova, you were better off looking for the modest churches nestled in the bigger cities.

In Unova, religion tended to be an emphasis on duality - duality in nature and technology, duality in people and Pokemon, even duality in the black and white Pokemon of children's legends and religious stories. Nicholas had been raised by a fairly religious family, but his view on religion itself varied. Callista had never really brought it up in conversation (and it wasn't a conversation they were often having among the three of them!), and while Beatrice was superstitious bordering on anxiety (if Nicholas had a nickel for every time she had knocked on wood...), her views on religion had never been that nice.

So the only favourable reason Callista could see for Beatrice wanting to go to a revival tent was for a bit of kitsch and to probably mock it. Beatrice really liked mocking things.

Almost as if Beatrice could hear what she was thinking, the curly-haired girl was giving her an offended look, which only made Callista laugh harder.

"We should go," she said finally. "I want to see what Beatrice makes of this."

"You're so rude!" Beatrice snickered, looking over at her fondly, but with a bit of worry - Callista could tell her thoughts were still back to this morning.

"Uh, first we should probably figure out where we are." Nicholas spoke up. "Bee, did you look at the map?"

"Huh? Yeah." Beatrice smoothed it out. "Guy says we're here." she jabbed a finger into the map, about a quarter of the way up the route.

"He says it'll take about an hour to get to Nimbasa, about forty-five minutes to Desert Resort. That's where this miracle tent is or whatever."

"An hour?" Callista looked stricken.

"They've got some stuff for sale." Beatrice suggested. "Goggles and hats and shit."

They perused the little shop hastily set up in the corner by one of the workers - the stuff they were selling was ridiculously overpriced, Callista was pretty sure she could get most of this for much cheaper in the side streets of Castelia - but she supposed it was their own fault for not anticipating the weather. Route 4 was known for quick, but frequent, sandstorms, and farther north rainstorms were known to wreak havoc on hikers. As far as Callista knew, they hadn't even brought an umbrella!

Beatrice ended up buying a pair of goggles, while Nicholas fashioned his own out of a scarf and his sunglasses. After thanking the workers, they braved the desert once more.

* * *

Luckily, they had a brief reprieve for twenty minutes when the sandstorm died down - without the swirling sand it wasn't as disorientating, and someone had tacked up helpful, metal signs to direct them.

"So we doing this?" Beatrice asked as they came to a fork in the road - left to the Desert Resort and right to Nimbasa City. A flyer had been tacked on the Desert Resort sign, touting the Miracle Tent, but it had been badly damaged by the frequent storms.

"Why not?" Callista shrugged - to be honest, she had a bit of a headache, and ever since they had left the construction building her stomach had knotted up, like she was expecting something bad to happen - but both Nicholas and Beatrice seemed interested so she didn't want to spoil anything.

The Desert Resort was almost sheltered from the true viciousness of the storm - they were surrounded by looming cliffs that boxed the area in. Nicholas hoped they'd linger enough to visit the Relic Castle; he had read about it in his research and it would nice to see it in person, if only for a moment.

It was pretty hard to miss this 'Miracle Tent' - it was huge and white against the dark cliffs, pristine despite all the sand. There were large, heavy-duty trucks parked behind it, like everything had just been set up. A hastily erected tarp over the front entrance allowed visitors to brush themselves off and remove their headwear before entering.

Speaking of visitors...

"Where did all these _people_ come from?" Callista asked.

Beatrice was squinting through her ridiculous goggles. For one, there were a _lot_ of people, like a whole busload had arrived just for this tent. Callista knew the Desert Resort was popular with tourists but...they were all dressed like they were going to a fancy dinner party. The men were wearing suits, the women in modest skirts and blouses. They definitely weren't here to visit the relics!

The trio hesitated for a second, aware of their dusty jeans and large, obnoxious backpacks.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road!" Beatrice finally announced, adding, "Or, let's at least get out of this fucking _sand_."

There was a rosy-cheeked, curly-haired girl at the entrance in a clean, pressed dress, with a big, genuine smile and a donations basket - she seemed unaware of the masses of people filing past her into the tent, nodding and smiling at random, ill-timed intervals. Beatrice, dusty rings around her eyes from her goggles, fished laboriously in her pocket for a spare coin, and Nicholas met the girl's eyes with a smile as he dropped in his contribution. She looked dazed, like she'd just run into a wall and was trying to regain understanding of her environment. Her smile was big and tight against her teeth, and there was a bit of lipstick on one of the front ones.

Wicker chairs were set up in rows, under the faint light of fairy lights, strung up in the recesses of the tent's arching ceiling. Up front, a simple wooden stage had been erected, complete with podium. Beatrice sat down in a chair immediately, propping her feet up on the the chair legs in front of her. Callista followed, eyes trained on the overhead lights. They reflected in her eyes, and for a moment she looked lost. Hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, her right fist visibly clenched and unclenched under the light fabric, like she was gripping something in her hand.

Nicholas sat down next to a modestly dressed, middle-aged woman with carefully styled hair.

"Hello, dear." she said to him. "First time?"

"What?" Nicholas asked, puzzled. Then: "Oh, yes. We're just passing through. Is this...?"

"Where miracles happen." the woman finished for him, confidently. Her eyes were crinkled in a perpetual smile, her lips carefully painted. "You'll see, dear." she turned her face back up front, leaving Nicholas speechless.

There were still people milling around at the back of the tent, talking in happy, yet subdued voices, and after a few moments Beatrice got up and shuffled past Nicholas, leaving her backpack under her chair and her coat draped over the back. Callista watched her move through the crowd of people to the front of the tent, aimlessly, and after a moment she followed. Nicholas remained as the woman began to chat with him.

There was a little card table set up near the smiling girl and her donation basket. There were two little figurines of Reshiram and Zekrom, who beadily watched over their collection of brochures and pamphlets. Callista picked over them - there was one advertising tours of the Relic ruins; another was asking for donations and support to fix up Dragonspiral Tower. One was simply a stiff piece of white paper, headlined by a pale, aquamarine "_P_". Under it was a toll-free number

'_Worried? Unsure of your place in the world?_' it said. '_24/7 hotline...call and find out where you belong. Experience the miracles_'.

"Sisters." the voice was so close that Callista jumped, but when she turned she saw only the back of a man's head as he spoke to Beatrice. He looked young, in a smart suit, with pale hair. Callista felt a strange thrumming of unease.

"You should take a seat - I am about to begin." he was saying, putting a hand on Beatrice's elbow, to which the girl looked affronted

"Yes sir." Beatrice replied sarcastically, and the man left, weaving through the crowd of people effortlessly, like he had experienced this before. Callista craned her neck to catch another glimpse of the man, though the crowd blocked his face.

"Did you..." she began to ask, but seemed to think better of it, leaving Beatrice frowning and confused.

Nevertheless, the two of them moved back to their seats along with the rest of the crowd - surveying the tent, Callista saw it was packed. There weren't enough chairs and people had taken up standing at the back. There were a couple people eyeing their empty chairs when they got back, and the two of them hurried to sit down as someone turned off most of the fairy lights, leaving them waiting in a stuffy, dim tent. Callista could faintly hear the howl of the wind outside the tent and over on the other side of the tent a baby had started to fuss.

"Brothers and sisters!" the man raised his arms, face openly radiant and full of awe - he was standing behind the podium, comfortable in his role as orator.

"Pray with me - we are blessed every day, brothers and sisters, every day we are allowed to walk upon this Earth."

"We are blessed." the crowd murmured, steadfastly, and Nicholas looked around with caution.

Beside him, Callista had gone absolutely still; after a moment, she sunk in her seat, obscured from view by the tall man in front of her. Beatrice looked over, confused. At the same time, the man up front looked in their direction, sharply, as if someone had shouted something. Then, he smiled, and under the weak fairy lights his teeth gleamed a sickly colour.

"We are dealing with miracles, ladies and gentlemen." he announced. "Every day we come in contact with miracles, whether we know it or not. They work through regular people, give us opportunities to worship them, acknowledge them, _know_ them. We live in a time of miracles."

"We live in a time of miracles." the crowd repeated.

Leaning over a still tense Callista, Beatrice muttered to Nicholas, "Okay, I changed my mind...I never want to go to a revival tent _ever_ again."

"No doubt." Nicholas muttered back, before the man was clapping, sharply.

"My name is Paarce." he announced. "And I believe we live in the time of miracles. I was lowly, and now I am blessed. I have been blessed, brothers and sisters, with a gift, which has been given to me by the gods I now implore you to look towards. I will prove this to you, today, so that you may see my miracles."

"Miracles." came the slow chant, ebbing and flowing like a slow, suckling tide. Everyone in the tent rose to their feet, and reluctantly the trio followed suit. Callista was still hunched, with a terrified frozen look on her face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Beatrice hissed to her friend, as Paarce raised his hands.

"Come, testify. Show me your worst burdens, and I will show you that our lords can set you free." he began to sway, wildly, as if gripped in some sort of euphoria.

"That's the man that was in my bedroom!" Callista squeaked, under her friends' worried eyes. "He - he was arrested! I don't understand - "

"Sister!" Paarce was pointing off into the mass of swaying bodies. "I see you are in need of a miracle."

"Yes." the word was sobbed, and a pitiful figure began climbing the short steps of the podium, accompanied by a silent, concerned Simipour. The woman looked young, yet hunched. As she turned her face fully towards the audience, Nicholas bit back the urge to recoil: one side of her face was horribly scarred and burned, as if she'd been in an accident.

"Sister, you look to be in pain." Paarce's tone was saccharine sweetness, and he took the lady's hand, guiding her into the centre of the stage.

"There was a fire." her voice was a whisper, but the crowd had grown hushed - her words traveled, clearly, over the tent's occupants. "When I was very young. My lungs are shriveled, every day is agony."

"Wow, good makeup job." Beatrice, ever the blunt disbeliever, muttered under her breath - the kindly lady by Nicholas shot her an offended look. Nicholas sunk lower in his seat.

Paarce nodded, kindly. "If you'll pray with me, brothers and sisters." he implored. "Show this woman she is not alone! Show her that through our faith, we can achieve all that our lords set before us!"

"Achieve, achieve!" it was a chant started by few, but taken up by the whole tent - Nicholas found himself mouthing along, found himself clasping the kindly lady's hand and raising it up towards the sky.

By his side, Callista was watching the man, Paarce, intently - only she saw the way his hand glowed, like he was holding a little blue light in his hand; he stroked it quickly over the side of the lady's face, down over her shoulder and across her arm. Her Simipour began to exclaim, beating its little fists against the wooden podium, in either an outcry of worry or fear.

The lady doubled over, arms clenched around her stomach, and there was a gasp - Callista's mouth hung open.

As the woman raised herself, her fingers splayed, disbelievingly, over the once-burnt side of her face. At Paarce's insistence, she lowered her hand to reveal smooth, untouched skin. There was no evidence of any scarring, the skin unpuckered. Undeterred, the lady began to feel across her face, dark brown eyes wide with absolute surprise.

"It's gone!" she choked. "I don't...I don't understand - !"

"You have been spared." Paarce said lowly, though his voice was heard by everyone. "You have been granted a miracle, sister."

The woman flung herself to her knees, her Simipour worrying around her.

"Praise be to them!" she wailed, genuine tears streaming down her face. "Praise be to Reshiram, and Zekrom!"

Nicholas looked at Beatrice - his friend's face had gone slack with disbelief.

"No way!" she declared, loudly, as the audience broke into shouts, hollers, and applause. "There is _no way_!"

The woman, still sobbing, was helped off the stage and down the aisle by what Callista could only assume were her friends; people reached out their hands to touch her as she passed, as if she could bring them good luck.

Paarce raised his hands, waiting for the noise to die down.

"I must share something with you, brothers and sisters." he announced. "When I was young, I followed the words of a very wise man. This man connected with the gods in a way I was previously ignorant to. And now he is dead, but through him I am able to continue his miracles.

"Perhaps you have heard of him," Paarce surveyed his rapt audience, with a little smile. "His name is Ghetsis."

There was an outburst of murmurs among several members of the audience, and the three of them sat, stunned.

Nicholas obviously recognized the name - you'd be hard-pressed to find someone in Unova who didn't. Ghetsis had been the leader of Team Plasma, whose son had originally summoned the dragon Pokémon when Nicholas was thirteen; he had emerged two years later, attempting to raise another legendary Pokémon. Nicholas knew him only as a tyrant, an insane man who had twice attempted to seize power in Unova. Looking over, he saw the woman beside him was calm, nodding along to Paarce's words like she'd heard them before - indeed, most of the audience members looked like they were regular patrons, swaying and nodding, totally serene; there were only a few faces that registered shock at Paarce's words.

Paarce was unperturbed.

"Many of you, I'm sure, only know his name connected with negative terms." he continued, firmly, "But he is responsible for the miracles you saw before you today!"

"Oh, fuck, is he seriously - " Beatrice was hissing in Callista's ear, and Nicholas had reached across to fasten a hand on her forearm as she began to raise her voice.

"Ghetsis had contact with Reshiram and Zekrom during his lifetime," Paarce continued. "And in the afterlife he continues to deliver us miracles. I ask you all to direct your thanks and your prayers to Ghetsis...so that he may continue to heal us and guide us in our life, under the direction of Zekrom and Reshiram."

"Thank you, Ghetsis." the collective murmur was strong, and Nicholas and Callista exchanged horrified look as the name of a madman was taken up as a prayer.

"Oh good fucking almighty..." Beatrice was squeezing the arms of her wicker chair, incredulous and furious all in one. Her father had had one of his Pokémon taken away from him by a member of Team Plasma when she was young - he had never gotten it back, and this open adoration for the man responsible for it hit close to home for her. Callista added her hand to Nicholas' squeeze, trying to express her apologies and comfort. Beatrice contented herself with seething in her seat, eyebrows drawn low.

The performance trickled off after that - Paarce continued to preach, but after the miraculous healing nothing could really hold the audience's interest like before. After it ended, a crowd swelled around the preacher to express admiration, thanks, and a plea for similar treatment; but as far as Callista could see, Paarce looked drained, and brushed off their requests politely, but firmly. There were a couple large men in matching uniforms - security, probably - that hovered around the podium, in case things got violent. Most of the people who attended this session just looked sad, Callista figured. Sad and hopeful for something that Paarce could give them - and by the looks of it, he could give them a _lot_.

She thought back to the blue glow on Paarce's palm, with a sense of looming dread, and busied herself with pulling on her jacket - after meeting her home invader, she didn't want to stick around, and began to wrap herself in her scarf again. Beatrice was emptying sand out of her goggles, while Nicholas shook the kindly lady's hand.

"Callista." her name, hummed in that voice, with that smug, simpering tone, made Callista's insides freeze.

Beside her, Beatrice grabbed her arm defensively as she swiveled to take in Paarce, his forehead shiny with sweat, fixing the sleeves of his suit jacket; his adoring crowd had dissipated, some hovering near the entrance of the tent, but most had left to brave the storm. Some workers were beginning to pack up the podium.

Paarce was smiling, serenely, like he hadn't previously been arrested for breaking into her house. "You came to see me. I'm so happy."

"How..." Callista mouthed faintly, willing words to come to her.

"Nice performance, dude." Beatrice sneered, though it was a little subdued - Paarce had that same weird, magnetic energy that had surrounded him during his preaching. He looked flushed from exertion but also from a strange sort of power. Callista felt like fleeing. "So is this an ironic sort of hipster revival, or are you legitimately preaching some sorta new religion?"

Paarce spread his palms with a sharp edge to his smile. "I only wish to spread the truth." he replied, demurely.

Beatrice snorted at that, and the edge to Paarce's smile grew sharper.

"It disappoints me to know you associate with such a low caliber of people, Callista." his voice was soft, dangerous, and he ignored Beatrice's affronted noise. Callista was vaguely aware she was shivering, with her hands in her pockets, clenching onto the rock.

Paarce caught the motion and cocked his head.

"So you brought it all the way here?" he wondered. "What a good girl you are. Give it to me."

His hands were still spread, greedily, and Beatrice snapped, "Hey, _fuck_ off, okay? We'll call the police on your ass - pretty sure you're supposed to be in jail right now."

Her raised voice had caught the attention of some of the security standing around; Paarce looked unaffected, and Callista tugged on her friend's sleeve.

"Cut it out." she ground out.

"It's so good to see you again." Paarce addressed her again, ignoring Beatrice. "I was almost afraid you'd forgotten about me."

Callista scowled. "You _broke_ into my _house_." she intoned.

"Let me make it up to you." Paarce moved closer with a smile, and Callista couldn't help herself; she took a step backwards, unable to hide her fear.

"You can make it up to me by _never_ coming near me again." she snapped, firmly; Beatrice looked satisfied by this outburst.

"Yeah, dude, we're out. Thanks for a ridiculously terrible shit show." she told the preacher, who frowned.

"We're not done here." he warned, his eyes locked on Callista's. Nicholas and Beatrice stepped between them, in unison.

"Yeah, you are, or I'mma knock you out." Beatrice warned, though even she seemed spooked by Paarce's weird energy - the four of them knew that the threat carried little weight. Paarce merely smiled.

"Bless you." he told them, raising his hands in some sort of a prayer. "May you travel safe until we meet again."

"Don't count on it!" Beatrice squawked, and began tugging Callista away; she followed, gladly, not daring to look back at the criminal preacher.

Nicholas _did_ look back, though, and when he saw Paarce speaking quietly with a member of his security force, he murmured, "Guys, we should probably get out of here quickly."

"You don't have to tell _me_ twice." Callista stammered.

"Word." Beatrice agreed.

"Did you enjoy the show?" a slight, red-headed girl chirped at them, as they paused briefly under the tarp to gather their things.

Beatrice shot her a scowl. "Yeah, had a _great_ fucking time."

"Good!" the girl grinned, without a trace of sarcasm. "See you again soon!"

Beatrice snorted. "Not likely." she muttered, and the three of them took off into the storm.

Only once did Callista look back - by this time the swirling sand made it hard to see the outline of the tent entrance, but she was pretty sure she saw Paarce at the entrance, watching them leave. At his side was a dark, four-legged Pokémon, flicking its tail in the air.

"Hey, you're looking all sick again." Beatrice spoke up, worried, craning her head over her shoulder to follow Callista's gaze.

"Let's just get as far away from here as possible." Callista replied.

After a moment, she reached into her pocket to squeeze the rock tightly in her fist, like she thought it would help.

It didn't.

* * *

**END CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

Author's Note: My friend and I think we should just rename this story to, "You Should Be Worried About Callista". Packs a better punch


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